"Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. The coolies proceeded at a swinging, mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action similar to that of a suddenly agitated hangingspring of a birdcage. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. "It's the ordinary's signature, undoubtedly," replied Jack. "What is your name?" "Ruth. "I did all for the best, as I'll explain.
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