CHAPTER VIII.
JOHNNY CARR IS WILLFUL.
The next three days were on the whole the most uncomfortable I have ever spent in my life.

I got little sleep and no rest; I went about with a revolver handy all day, and jumped every time I heard a sound.
I expended much change in buying every edition of all the papers; I listened with dread to the distant cries of news-venders, fearing, as the words gradually became distinguishable, to hear that our secret was a secret no longer.

I was bound to show myself, and yet shrank from all gatherings of men.

I transacted my business with an absent mind and a face of such superhuman innocence that, had anyone been watching me, he must at once have suspected something wrong.

I was incapable of adding up a row of figures, and Jones became most solicitous about the state of my brain.