Wagstaff. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. " "A bold resolution," said the woollen-draper. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. Light flooded the place. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door.
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