It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. CHAPTER XXIII. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely.
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