" "My turn comes before yours, Sir," interposed his better half. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. She felt the warm nearness of his. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. She may afford us some necessary information. Then she saw him.
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