CHAPTER XVI. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words. Michelle had begged her to do it. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. ” “Look here!” said Capes, “what on earth do you want? What do you think we can do? Don’t you know what men are, and what life is?—to come to me and talk to me like this!” “I know—something, anyhow. .
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