Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive.
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