Few men could have done as much. One group at the door attracted Jack's attention, inasmuch as it was composed of several of his old acquaintances—Mr. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. CHAPTER XV. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair.
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