Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. “I guess I’m not the only one who wonders about your past. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. En tout cas, I will not permit that you endanger yourself again for me. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. CHAPTER XXVIII.
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