’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. ’ You used to declare that you hated the name. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None.
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