She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. I am sure. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it.
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