CHAPTER XXI.
A CHECK AT THE STARTWe looked each other in the face.
“You heard it?” Her voice quavered.
“I heard something. It was only a woman’s laughter. She is somewhere close at hand, but is hidden from us by the fog.”
“It was That which did it. Do you think I can be wrong? It is with Mr. Lawrence. It is his shadow: it follows close behind him.”
She was shivering from head to foot. Her eyes were distended, her face white; I was fearful of I knew not what. Hailing a passing hansom, I had practically to lift her into it. She seemed to have all at once grown helpless. I told the driver to take us to Victoria—fast. An idea had occurred to me. The Ostend boat train left at half-past five. We might be able to catch it. Anything was preferable to inaction. The sooner we were out of London
