A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. "I understand," she said. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. She acted as her mother had taught her to. “I can’t believe it. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. ’ As a matter of fact, I am not. A bad one in a rough-and-tumble; all the water-front tricks. "By Heaven!" cried he in a tone of surprise, "you have an infant there?" "To be sure I have," replied Wood, angrily; for, finding that the intentions of the stranger were pacific, so far as he was concerned, he thought he might safely venture on a slight display of spirit. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. Now I’d like the rest of your story.
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