She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. “Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads. He was safe, out of the beaten track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me.
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