"Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. It was clear it must be to-morrow. “I hope you’re satisfied. I mean Miss Charvill no harm. “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation. We shall have—hardly any money. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. Her lips were dry and cracked.
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