"I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. “Let us sit down for a moment,” he had said. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently.
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