Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. "It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with a look that chilled the little damsel's heart;—"my resolution is taken. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town. “I must go. There are also the letters which were scattered about Wild's room after the murder of Sir Rowland. Luckily I’m not.
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