"Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. Marvel, who, as he had helped to deprive her of her former husbands, thought himself in duty bound to offer to supply their place. I told him the truth. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. Suffer me to precede you.
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