Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Then I came to London and tried almost everything—all failures. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. "Do you recollect this key? Do you recollect to whom you gave it, and for what purpose? or shall I refresh your memory?" Wild appeared confounded.
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