Today you shall promise me that you will pull no more of these stunts. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. Great stone staircases leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and, though this was not the case in reality, the deception was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of producing the intended effect. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. I thought that you were he. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ‘But it is idiot. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough.
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