Will you be wanting me alone?" asked Ah Cum. She was no longer a confederate in that. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel.
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