“Very well,” she would say, “then I must go. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost composure; "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject of King George. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. Wood fancied he recognised. She is, in her way, a dear. He said the place had gone to wrack. I do—with all my heart. " Jack was about to comply with the request, when an unlooked-for interruption occurred. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping.
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