Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. "Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly. . ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. I told her it was the end. He reached over and took her hand. " He departed, musing. Everything had so far come to pass as the withered old Kanaka woman had foretold. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. I'll tell you what. You can do it, if you will. ” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. Anyone would be intrigued.
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