"I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have reference to so humble a person as Mrs. " "Alas! that one so highly born should submit to such a degradation?" groaned the knight. But he did not follow on with the thought. He is in Newgate. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. She is Bohemian to the fingertips.
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