From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. His glasses were gone. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. . "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. I do not wish to blow off a head, you understand. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her.
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