"Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. . She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off.
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