" The stranger smiled incredulously. "Let me go," cried Winifred. “I am. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. Her eyes flashed. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. Little by little, she stopped hating him. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. "Wasn't he in some way connected with the Jacobite plots?" "He was," replied Thames. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick.
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