” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. Why did I not realise it at once? It just shows how one should not judge by appearances. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. "Comfort yourself, my charmer," said Mr. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face.
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