You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. ‘And so also have I. " "And so this is my reward for having made you the tip-top cracksman you are," muttered Blueskin;—"to be turned off at a moment's notice, because I silenced a noisy woman. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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