The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. The police are concerned in it in either event. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. The only part of his otherwise-interesting countenance, to which one could decidedly object, was the mouth; a feature that, more than any other, is conceived to betray the animal propensities of the possessor. ‘You can’t go to England. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. CHAPTER XVI.
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