The chief of these was a figure of Liberty, with a cat at her feet, in allusion to the supposed origin of the fortunes of its former founder, Sir Richard Whittington. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. . "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. Wood started to his feet.
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