“But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. . Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. "I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild. That would be an unkind twist of fate. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters.
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