The Iron Bar. " "Are you sure of that," inquired Jackson. I haven't touched the other. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. The servants had left the room. Your time isn't come yet. You need give yourself no more concern about Kneebone. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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