” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. I may as well think. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. Even though I knew you’d no one else to care. "Where is he?" he cried. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable.
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