‘Don’t be silly. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. . “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. ” Suppose she were to add, “I am going away!” “I’m glad to hear you say it,” said Mr. "Not materially, Mr. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators.
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