"My portrait!" echoed Jack. "No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me. “Holcroft,” he remarked, “in bald language, and with the usual limitations of his clouded intellect, has still given some slight expression to the consternation which I believe I may say is general amongst us. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse.
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