He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. The fact is I was so glad to see you again that it never occurred to me that a little discretion might be advisable. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ’ ‘You surprise me. A noise was next heard, as if some instrument were applied to the door with the intent to force it open, and Jack's fears were at once dispelled, At first, he had imagined they were officers of justice, come to convey him to a stronger prison: but the voice of one of the parties, which he recognised, convinced him they were his friends. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins.
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