Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. " "Somebody coming?" "Yes. But this was long ago. I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against.
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