" "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance. But I was portentous, I can assure you. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. Sheppard, faintly. Jonathan shook his head. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. She became more assertive, more defiant. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. To settle things, you know. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild.
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