Gerald lifted an eyebrow. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. " Sheppard immediately complied with the painter's request; while Gay and Figg drew back on one side, and Hogarth on the other. He said daring things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in her manner towards him. I shan't let you off a farthing. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it.
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