She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. ” For a fraction of a second the two young men hesitated. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. This she would not endure. "You've got him?" demanded Ireton.
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