’ It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the short distance to Stratton Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and entered a pleasant woodpanelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. “Take off your tunic. We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for whom we ought to send?” “I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. I can be a gentleman. No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr. . ” “Try what?” She asked, coolly assessing his lithe hips. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. S. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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