"Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. " "I care not why you did it," said Jack, sternly. She took a deep breath. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. "I eat for both. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home.
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