Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. “No! I want to do without that. "By desire of his Majesty," said the jailer, consequentially. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest.
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