Her mind had been and was full of the thought of Capes, a huge generalized Capes-lover. I thought that you were he. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it.
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