"Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. "Off with you to Newgate!" cried Jack, "and don't let him out till you get inside the Lodge.
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