" CHAPTER XVIII. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. ’ She drew a heavy breath. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park.
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