’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand.
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