But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. ’ ‘That is not your affair. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times. I shall start at the bottom.
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