“Why not?” he exclaimed. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. Her lips parted, but no words came. If Gerald knew, what should stop Gosse from finding out? Perhaps he was even now at the lawyer.
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