“I have not the least idea who he is. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. ‘You do not try. . But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. “We’re in for it. It is not the woman who speaks there. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg.
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