Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. It was in her eyes—the big thing that comes but once. "That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. How dreary it all looks. "There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. It was after all a momentary affair. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last.
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