The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Securing the chain in the best way he could, Jack then hurried down two pair of stairs, and had nearly reached the lobby, when a door suddenly opened, and two persons appeared, one of whom held a light. ‘Never fear, my love. I think it inadvisable—I don’t want an intimacy to spring up between you and a man of that type.
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