"Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. It will be his interest to do so. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. I heard John was talking about you again from Jenny McIntyre. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter.
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