I got to have you under guard in the gatehouse, I can see that. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. He, however, made no remark at the time, but instantly prepared to set out. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. . ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street.
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