A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Why did you let him have it?" "Let him have it? I can't stand at the elbow of any of the guests and regulate his or her actions. "No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. Though meant to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed to excite the risible propensities rather than the commiseration of his auditor; and when Mr. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out.
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