A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. It would be swindling. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity.
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