The Irishman turned to Alice.
I couldn't bear to think, she stammered, that you had been sentenced because I appeared against you. I couldn't help it. I didn't want to come. They made me. I had to tell the truth. You will be more careful, won't you?
Shure, mum. The Irishman scratched his red-thatched head.
The judge leaned over the bar.
Miss Blake, he began.
Alice looked up.
Won't you come and sit beside me and listen to the other cases?
She declined with thanks.
Let's get out of this horrid place, she adjured Harold.
You are adorable, he muttered, as they descended the stairs.
I couldn't bear to think of that man going to jail. He may have children. I'd always feel it was my fault he was there. Oh! if papa hears about this!
I don't think he will.
It might get into the newspapers.
The horror of this idea expanded. Harold was innocent enough to believe that it might, but he kept his opinion to himself.
It's over now anyway, but if papa finds out!
Please, don't cry again. I can't bear it!
I won't if I can help it. . . . She tried to
