He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. "Do you recollect this key? Do you recollect to whom you gave it, and for what purpose? or shall I refresh your memory?" Wild appeared confounded. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side.
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