"Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. You are without sense and not sympathique in the least. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside.
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