"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. ” “I think,” Lady Lescelles said, putting down her teacup, “that I must send Nigel to plead his own cause. "Where are the packets committed to your charge by Sir Rowland Trenchard?" "The packets!" exclaimed Kneebone, in alarm. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows.
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