After all, that was life. Here you only waste your time. She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her. “I wish you would come and see my lawyers. It’s all right. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. ” He said.
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