"Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. " And, with this, he coolly re-adjusted his peruke. She must get to the vestry. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. It is not you who runs the risk of going dinnerless to-morrow. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. I have said good-bye to it all.
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