She drew a shuddering breath back through her teeth, but still held out her hand. I felt for my last coin, and her fingers closed on it so sharply that their long nails scraped the back of mine.
"Kind gentleman"
"Ay, they are kind, are they not?"
She stared at me, and in a nerveless tone let one horrible oath escape her.
"There'll be one less before morning," said I, "if that's any consolation to you. Good night!" Setting off at a shuffling run, I doubled back along Grosvenor Street and Bond Street to the point where I hoped to pick up the trail again. And just there, at the issue of Bruton Street, two constables stood ready for me.
"I thought as much," said the one who set me on my way. "Hi, you! Wait a moment, please;" then to the other, "Best turn his pockets out, Jim."
"If you dare to try" I began, with my hand in my pocket: the next moment I found myself sprawling face downward on the sharp crust of snow.
"Hullo, constables!" said a voice. "What's the row?" It was Gervase. He had turned leisurely back from the slope of Conduit Street, and came strolling down the road with his hands in his pockets.
"This fellow, Sir—we have reason to think he was followin' you."
