" "I ought to add," continued Winifred, "that one of her shoes was picked up in the garden, and that prints of her feet were discovered along the soft mould; whether made in flying from any one, or from rushing forth in distracted terror, it is impossible to say. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. “I did it for love of you,” he said. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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