"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. He drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down, terrified by the utter fallowness of his mind. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. ‘Never fear, my love. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. No wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change his mind. "As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't.
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