‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. Jerking forward, she jabbed backwards. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. " "I'll not forget it. Sir John felt hot and furious. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. "Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly.
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