But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. The next moment he was by her side. You will survive, mark my words. "Shotbolt! by—" cried Austin, as the captive was dragged forth. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. ” He said. " "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. “I want to find an address. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care.
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