"I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. " "I've nothing to confess," replied Thames, boldly; "I've done no wrong. He said nothing. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. 1. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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