“What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. It was only a few months ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at me. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. Mercifully, the Peters had moved to Rhode Island about six months after the tragedy. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. ‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. "I disown you. " "I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly.
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