How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question. She took a deep breath. "Confusion! the rascal must have picked my pocket of your letters," whispered Kneebone, "What's to be done?" "What's to be done! Why, I'm undone! How imprudent in you not to burn them. Well, let him be honest. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. She did not answer him, as she did not know what to say. Lucy slipped upstairs silently.
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