” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly. ” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner. The only circumstance which served to awaken a darker feeling in his breast was, that his implacable foe Jonathan Wild had survived the wound inflicted by Blueskin, and was slowly recovering. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.
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