He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I guessed as soon as you said this was your house. "Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. See paragraph 1. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey.
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