’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. It is to take place to-night. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces.
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