“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. If you love me, do not allude to this subject again. ‘No, you don’t. Even if you didn’t know it. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. This helped to restore Ann Veronica’s self-command. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously.
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