Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. I'm glad to recognise you. But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you. "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. He whispered in her ear. Accidentally raising his eyes, he saw that he was perceived by the family from Dollis Hill, and that he was an object of the deepest interest to them. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. But I'll not believe it of you.
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