" "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. ‘En tout cas, it is not up at all, but down. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Wants me to look out for you a bit. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. Not a moment is to be lost. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief.
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