By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. "I have one inquiry more to make of you, Sir," said the stranger, as soon as he had conquered his displeasure, "and I will then trouble you no further. Brendon. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. ‘No need to upset yourself.
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