“We parted— that night the best of friends. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. The risk I run is nothing to yours. ’ Gerald’s jaw tightened. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Hope you ate light before you got here. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases.
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