. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. “Well?” she said. I know now what it is to be an abandoned female. After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. And before Kneebone could draw his sword, he felled him to the ground with the iron bar.
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