" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. “But—your people!” she gasped. Then, when the tension was getting unendurable, and she was on the verge of speaking to some casual passer-by and demanding help, her follower vanished. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. " "Did he owe you money?" "Oh, no!" "Then why do you wish to know?" Ah Cum pondered.
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