But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. ” “Why should I? I have told you that I do not wish for acquaintances in London. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. I am really in earnest. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable.
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