Explore "Gentleman Jack, Bushranger" by Don Delaney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On the following night Hope Thellusson was sitting with her lover in the little writing-room at his quarters behind the bungalow, when a stealthy step was heard outside, and a knock came to the door.
"Who on earth can it be?" said Hope, who was full of vague apprehensions, mainly on the Commissary's account. He had grown very silent and melancholy, and the arrival of the mail every day threw him into a state of nervous trepidation that was only to be banished by brandy.