"I was only commenting. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. He hanged your first husband. I need only just jump up and throw myself upon you. . "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps.
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