Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up.
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