"Will he consent, to be searched?" inquired Jonathan. Mrs. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. The swellings appeared under her arms and a general panic spread through the Palazzo.
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