She backed away from him. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. ’ A thought caught in her mind and she turned quickly to her old nurse.
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