Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. “I want to show you something. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is. . And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again.
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