“I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. You see, I’m separated from my wife. A robbery has been committed, and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to the offence. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. "My plan is a very simple one," rejoined the thief-taker smiling bitterly.
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