Thames," she urged, "the errand, on which you're going, can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of mentioning it to my father. Fortescue?” “At your service. She had a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her sister—was a lady. ” Her eyes glinted, macabre. The bridge was protected on either side by a railing with bannisters placed at wide intervals. He was nearly wincing. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. Everything. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. Earles remarked genially. .
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