He did not explain what had happened to her. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. ‘Scream and you are dead,’ he snapped, and released her mouth so that he might open the door. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. It was horrible. I want to talk to Mr.
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