Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. ‘But it is idiot. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now.
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