CHAPTER XVIII. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. White assured her. A hansom stopped a little way off. “I meant it. I’m a female thing at bottom. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. He appeared to thunder dire happenings if she did not obey him without further ado. Gosse, if he had any sense, would immediately seek out the Remenham lawyers. ’ Her face fell.
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