CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. ” Then a burst of applause. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. They would be quite as entertaining as the histories of Guzman D'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, Estevanillo Gonzalez, Meriton Latroon, or any of my favourite rogues,—and far more instructive. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. ‘No. On these were thrown all the horrible contents of Jonathan's museum, together with the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner.
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