’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. “That is as you will,” she said. "Leave go!" cried Jack, struggling violently, and raising his hand, "or I'll maul you for life. Ain't you, Jacky darling?" "Not quite, Poll," returned Mr. " "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. mm. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away.
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