"I haven't any answer for that; but I'm going back after her. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the ordinary was reciting. Your mind is still subtly sick. " "None whatever," replied the mob. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not.
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