"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. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. 1. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me. ” “But he recognized you,” the official objected.
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