“Okay. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat. ‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers.
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