’ Gerald infused sympathy into his voice, and deliberately addressed himself to Madame. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. “What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. She opened the door to him herself. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey.
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