" "You once saw a man die that way?" the manager echoed, his recent puzzlement returning full tide. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. The morning of Monday the 16th of November 1724 at length dawned. You must tell me what it all means. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. "I took you for one who wouldn't hesitate to avail himself of any advantage chance might throw in his way," returned the thief-taker, coldly. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. But she made no answer.
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