Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. "You're mistaken, Winny. 1. Jonathan Wild?" asked the attendant, in great trepidation. There was no response. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. To-night they say he will be conscious. She had no intention of fighting fair.
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