“This appears to me to be more like a dream than an actual reality. You mistress of this grand establishment, assuming all the airs and graces of a lady of fashion. Confound it all, I am knocked completely silly—there’s no mistake about it, I’m dead beat. You Bessie Dalton!”
“I am not Bessie Dalton, Mr. Peace, and I must request you to be more guarded in your observations. A wide gulph now separates us—a gulph which nothing can bridge over. Go your ways, and leave me for evermore unmolested.”
“I am done, there’s no denying that—a gone coon, but after all I see no reason for regret, none whatever. I am pleased to think that you have been so fortunate, madam—that the sun of prosperity shines upon you,” said Peace, with something like sarcasm in his tone. “We are separated, and a wide gulph, as you very properly observe, lies between us, but for old acquaintance sake——”
“For old acquaintance sake I would do anything that lies in my power to serve you,” said she—“anything to turn you from your evil courses,” she added, after a pause.
“Rubbish! Don’t preach morality to me,” cried the burglar, “because I aint in a mood to listen to it—certainly not from you—or from anyone else, for the matter of that.”
“As you please. I do not desire to hold further parley with you; and now——”
“Well, what?”
“I must devise some means of getting you away without attracting the notice of any of the servants.”
“You devise? I’ll act for myself,” cried Peace. “There will not be much difficulty in the matter.”
He made towards the window, threw it open, and passed through. He hung for a moment by his hands from the window sill, and then dropped on the gravel walk below.