He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. Mr. " "What do you mean?" asked the female, in astonishment. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of the bells of Newgate and St. Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers.
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