Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. She had trembled on the verge of such a resolution before, but this time quite definitely she made it. Down that on the right the young culprit was dragged—along that on the left a fainting woman was borne in the arms of several females. " "Are you ready?" said Trenchard, striding towards the door. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. I’m behaving shockingly, I know.
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