‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. CHAPTER XXVII. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. ‘I must. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. "Here are a pair of gloves and a nosegay for you. \" Lucy said. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love.
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