She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. But I waited in vain. ’ *** Mrs Chalkney, a long-time friend of the late Mrs Alderley, had been delighted to oblige that lady’s son. "I've counted ten coffins so far.
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