"Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart.
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