“Number 13, please, cabman. It was she—— Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. ‘Else she would not have married that ne’er-do-well only because Jarvis proposed him to her. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.
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