Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide. Stanley was throughout enigmatical, with an anxious eye on her husband and Alice. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated.
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