CHAPTER XXX. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. He could not make good his hold. The world isn't real yet; she hasn't comparisons by which to govern her acts. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. I charged the thief-taker, as was the fact, with having robbed me, by means of the lad Sheppard, whom he instigated to deed, of the very pocket-book he produced in evidence against me; but it was of no avail—I couldn't obtain a hearing.
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