Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. She slipped out the window, jumping to the ground from the second story with very little sound. Not choosing to hazard so great a fall, Jack turned to examine the building, to see whether any more favourable point of descent presented itself, but could discover nothing but steep walls, without a single available projection. You cannot care for her. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. Certainly not a gentlewoman. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. Lord bless you marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession.
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