’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. Without hindrance—present occupation. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them.
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