CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. The doctor drew out the contents hopefully. I can see that you were somebody, in another day. He was nearly wincing. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. "If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to. His literary instincts were reviving. The young man looked at her. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. "Confusion!" he cried; "something has happened. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished. Ramage.
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