"I must tell you," she was saying. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace.
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