’ She advanced towards him. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Sydney was watching her eagerly. Heigho!" "Now for it!" cried Jack, as the couple entered the room: "the coast's clear. Then for a time she sat very still. She shrugged her shoulders. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. This is my last week at the ‘Unusual,’ you know.
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