“Sir John is not at all that sort. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. She struggled against it quite uselessly. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. Fear nothing. You're an angel of goodness. A hansom stopped a little way off.
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