“Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. He must be gone to dispose of the body. He looked at his friend. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. He cabled to New York: "Probable destination known. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper.
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