"No," replied Jonathan, with a brutal laugh. ” “My wife was astounded—wounded beyond measure. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. ‘But a spy I am not. ” She swept out of the room. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. ” She said dryly. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. The girl nodded sagely. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage.
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