We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station.
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