He seemed to have expected them. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. “Those were good. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled. Later, she would sew it on. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. And then if some day Capes wanted her—saw fit to alter his views upon friendship.
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