“She doesn’t know. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. . Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. Only of course I must begin something else at once.
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