Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. . She was quite assured that she would never see him again. People running, screaming, hiding. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. During this colloquy, Jack had contrived unobserved to put on the hood and cloak, and being about the size of the rightful owner, presented a very tolerable resemblance to her.
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