“You will not give Sir John any cause for jealousy? You will have no secrets from him except—concerning those things which are past?” “Anna, I swear it!” her sister sobbed. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. I felt his heart. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. I called myself Anna. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf.
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