” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. But Jack did not heed them. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. Just now the waterchestnuts…. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
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