"What for?" demanded Wood. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Wood and Winifred, Thames instantly followed the domestic, and found a man, with his face muffled up, at the door, as she had described. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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