Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. We must never let your father know we went. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. They sold him the whisky. She was alone with a deadly enemy. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts. I want to be with you.
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