She thought me— filthy. ’ ‘Exactly so. . He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence.
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