With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. He thought of his wealth for once from a different point of view. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. CHAPTER XXII. She nursed at his neck as he peacefully slumbered through being killed. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden.
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