" "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. My business is with Lady Trafford. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. Think of those days in Paris. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI.
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