Nicholas had not dared to tell his father about the Valade girl. The only difference between the officers of Newgate and their brethren was, that they had enormous bunches of keys at their girdles, while the latter had left their keys at home. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. . ’ ‘Gad, there is someone there,’ exclaimed Hilary beside him, shading his eyes with one hand. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible.
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