Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. . " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. Brendon felt his arm seized. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences. "Take me, then," replied the widow. ‘If ever I met such a pair of lunatics!’ ‘Give me that, Hilary,’ Gerald said at once, ignoring his remark and reaching out for the handkerchief.
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