‘Say it. I loved her and made love to her, and I don’t think she quite loved me back in the same way. CHAPTER X. To-day he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. A sob was strangled in her throat. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed.
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