The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. "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. "Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a tongue. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. " "Degrade herself," rejoined Jonathan, brutally. We can’t even protect them from themselves. It is better to face the truth. .
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