’ ‘You mean I need not have said it? Damnation. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers.
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