“Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. I care for you. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. This time you cannot.
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