But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. CHAPTER XXXII. I’m right again now. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. You have been her guardian angel. The period of repression was over. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. But, when he got to the door with this intention, he became ashamed of his fears; and feeling convinced that Jack —bad as he might be—was not capable of such atrocious conduct as to plunder his benefactor twice, he contented himself with looking to the priming of his pistols, and placing them near him, to be ready in case of need, he threw himself on the bed and speedily fell asleep.
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