The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. She had decided that she would begin with her pearl necklace. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house.
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