ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge. “Ritter’s!” said Ramage to the driver, “Dean Street. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. “If I was the world I think I should have put down a crimson carpet, and asked you to say what you wanted, and generally walk over me. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. They turned the last corner, and almost immediately a man who had been standing there turned and struck Ennison a violent blow on the cheek.
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