“I am sorry,” he said slowly. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. You get one, you get them all. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. He told some of the particulars.
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