” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. ” “I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. He knew she had been weeping. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready.
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