That was something in his favour. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. He bullied frankly. I’m right again now. ’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. But this made the chase all the more exciting. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken.
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