The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. Through no fault of her own. Burn your palette and your easel. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. The Bitchster strikes again. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. It was the bitterest moment of her life.
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