’ She struck her hands together. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. Now I’d like the rest of your story. Drummond nodded. “You must send for the police at once, you know. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there. His firmness never deserted him till his old master, Mr. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side.
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