The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. “Because I hate you!” She spat. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. But Enschede took them as they came, without question. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about.
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