" CHAPTER XXV. " "I will conduct you to the outlet," replied Jack; "but I cannot leave it till I have ascertained whether my mother also is a prisoner here. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. “Don’t you care for Mr. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ” He whispered with reverence. “We are the species,” said Miss Miniver, “men are only incidents. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner.
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