Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. Every one of those four stories would be accepted. If you can tell me nothing I don’t already know, so be it. Michelle was too polite to put it into words. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. But she did not in the least want to do that.
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