“If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. ‘No, I don’t see much future in pursuing her down this passage. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. She smiled. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork.
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