"Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. She still could not muster the strength to leave. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. Give me that picture, or I'll make you!" "Hear me," said Thames, calmly; "you well know you're no match for me. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. It was then, I am sure, empty. "His name, I say!—his name!" thundered the knight. ” She replied. The theme was a masquerade.
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