“So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it. He it was who formed the grand design of a robber corporation, of which he should be the sole head and director, with the right of delivering those who concealed their booty, or refused to share it with him, to the gallows. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. . She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour.
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