Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. She’s got a great imagination. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. That’s about the beginning. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat.
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