” To her relief, Trodger sent one of his men posthaste to London with this missive, while the other went to fetch the horse, having been given precise directions on how to negotiate the passage so that he might find it at the other end. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. . I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. ‘I wish you joy of the wench.
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