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” He scarcely saw her face again. “Not really. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. We dine at seven-thirty. We were only—les autres. Stanley. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. Wood will be intercepted. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. I can get into my clothes. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips.
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