Hope reared. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. ” Sir John seated himself deliberately. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. "Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt.
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