She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. ‘I do not know if even I can do anything now. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. "Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength.
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