A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. ” Ahead of them walked a gentleman whom it was evident they must at their present pace very speedily overtake. He bent over to Anna at once. Felix. "No!" she cried. " "They're lifting her out of the carriage," interposed Charcam; "will it please your honour to send for some advice and the chaplain?" "Fly for both," returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of bitter anguish.
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