The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. She began to read, and presently she entered another world, and remained in it for two hours. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you.
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