“Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. Strange gurgle-like noises emanated from the crypt. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. "Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner.
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