Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. “They would spoil every chance. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Newby Chief Executive and Director gbnewby@pglaf.
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