CHAPTER XXVII THE ASSURANCERhona went back to her old quarters at the little hotel in Surrey Street for that night, and next morning Hetherwick came round to her, with an armful of newspapers. Finding her alone, he laid them on the table at her side with a significant nod of his head at certain big black letters which topped the uppermost columns.
"Matherfield must have given plenty of informing news to the pressmen last night," he remarked with a grim smile. "It's all in there—his own adventures at Southampton yesterday; mine and Robmore's in Westminster, and all the rest of it. I believe the newspaper people call this sort of thing a story—and a fine story it makes! Winding up, of course, with the dramatic arrest of Baseverie at Waterloo! I'm afraid we're in for publicity for a time, wo
