“You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ” She said. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered.
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