The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. "My enemy," replied her son. I ought never to have thought of it. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never. Stop it.
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