raising himself on his hands as he stared the girl in the face. "You look like a corpse come to life again. "What's the matter?"
"Matter!" replied the girl. "Nothing. What do you look at me so hard for?"
"What foolery is this?" demanded Sikes, grasping her by the arm, and shaking her roughly. "What is it? What do you mean? What are you thinking of, ha?"
"Of many things, Bill," replied the girl, shuddering, and as she did so, pressing her hands upon her eyes. "But, Lord! what odds in that?"
The tone of forced gaiety in which the last words were spoken seemed to produce a deeper impression on Sikes than the wild and rigid look which had preceded them.
"I tell you wot it is," said Sikes, "if you haven't caught the fever, and got it comin' on now, there's something more than usual in the wind, and something dangerous, too. You're not a-going to——— No, damme! you wouldn't do that!"
"Do what?" asked the girl.
