" Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons to drag the prisoner along. " The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her the box, which was instantly snatched from her by Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his thumb and finger, put it very coolly in his pocket. It hit her just above the knee. ‘Quickly! You must get up. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so.
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