"What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. ” She said dryly. ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. "Just in time," said the thief-taker.
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