Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony. "I am only fit for such as him. There he stands. It has been very humiliating. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. And yet it was basically a fine action.
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