" "Well, we shall see," replied Jack. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. We felt like thieves. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. Thames did not try to cheer her. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. Their minds are turned against him. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. "Oh! that I could live to see it," gasped Jonathan. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son.
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