Courtlaw rose to his feet. They travelled past the few idle sightseers who had braved the uninviting evening to see what the Suffragettes might be doing; they pulled up unchallenged within thirty yards of those coveted portals. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. Kneebone nodded. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase.
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