Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. "Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. And when I ask you why it is you do so, you have no answer. And, whatever you may think, I assure you, Jack's a downright goodnatured fellow.
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