He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. . She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. . "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. ’ ‘There is no need for this,’ he ventured mildly, and lifted his finger to show his own pistol was not cocked. "Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!" cried Thames.
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