" "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood. " "With all his cunning, he may meet with his match," continued Kneebone, laughing. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. It is better that you go away now, I think. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. " "How long will you be here?" "To-morrow night. " "I am at a loss to understand you Sir,", said Trenchard.
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