"In case he should consent—" "He never will," interrupted Winifred. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. It was only a few months ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at me. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. "His shin may need rubbing. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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