Part 2 Ann Veronica carried a light but business-like walking-stick. A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa.
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