White?” she asked, laughing. " "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise.
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