Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. "I shall need little more. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London. To-morrow they will know the truth. We all get deceived sometimes.
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