She was poor. Her heart failed her and her resolution became water. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. Sheppard, who witnessed this occurrence with dismay, looked timorously at Wood, in expectation of some hint being given as to the course she had better pursue; but, receiving none, for the carpenter was too much agitated to attend to her, she ventured to express a fear that she was intruding. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say.
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