‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. I didn't think. But it was hopelessly hard to put. Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked.
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