CHAPTER XX. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. "Jack!" exclaimed Thames. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. ” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. ” “Will you remember me?” “Unfortunately. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface.
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