There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. ’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. I know all about it.
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