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But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. It was after all a momentary affair.
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