"Who, then?" demanded Jack. His literary instincts were reviving. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. "Shortly after your last visit to Dollis Hill, my father was one evening waylaid by a man, who informed him that he had something to communicate respecting Thames, and had a large sum of money, and some important documents to deliver to him, which would be given up, provided he would undertake to procure your liberation. 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. The peculiar appearance of the sky was not without some influence in awakening these terrors. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. ’ He only laughed. 1. "Tut, tut! Don't exaggerate. ’ He grimaced. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape.
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