There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. " Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Even to my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?” “No, no!” he protested. . ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily.
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