‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. “My child, I do not wish.
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