He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. “An annuity—a sum of money paid to you yearly or quarterly through my solicitors, and which you can consider as a gift from your sister. Dorling said. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. She was the first to recover herself. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! III.
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