“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Old Jersey and Hampshire family, the Pellissiers, and a capital stock, too, I believe. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing.
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