"You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Either that or some other person also obtained admission here and shot him, and that person is either still upon the premises or escaped without your notice. ” Her thoughts went into solution for a time, while she listened to a lark singing. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. " Darrell's attention was drawn to the latter part of this speech by a slight pressure on his foot. He noticed the two chairs close together. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in. Well one night, some of us saw him, or thought we saw him, at a café dining with ‘Alcide,’—as a matter of fact, it seems that it was her sister. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon.
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