She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. . If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. Wagstaff. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. ‘Mademoiselle. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. The place to which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance was a fraud. Let—it—fall. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark.
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