The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. It came to Spurlock suddenly that if something did not react in his favour inside of five minutes, he was done. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. No man knew whence she had come nor why. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. "Be it as you please," replied Winifred. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less.
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