But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. Save us!" he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her agitation. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. She drew a long breath. Jonathan threw open the street-door.
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