It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. " "I tell you what, Jack," said Gay, "I've several urgent engagements this morning; but I'll return to-morrow, and hear the rest of your story. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital.
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