" "Footsteps are approaching," cried Thames. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. Celeste he knew. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. It was no use. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune.
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