He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. " "On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!" replied Jack, passionately. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. ’ He regarded her thoughtfully.
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