He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. and miscarried. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was open country.
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