CHAPTER X. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. He knows everything. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement. Section 1. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that.
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