It
was Mr. Jellicoe.
I shook hands once more with my friends and strode out into Fleet
Street, but as soon as I was outside the gate I made direct for Nevill's
Court. What was in my mind I do not know; only that some instinct of
protection led me there, where my lady lay unconscious of the hideous
menace that hung over her. At the entrance to the court a tall, powerful
man was lounging against the wall, and he seemed to look at me curiously
as I passed; but I hardly noticed him and strode forward into the narrow
passage. By the shabby gateway of the house I halted and looked up at
such of the windows as I could see over the wall. They were all dark.
All the inmates, then, were in bed. Vaguely comforted by this, I walked
on to the New Street end of the court and looked out. Here, too, a
man--a tall, thick-set man--was loitering; and, as he looked
inquisitively into my face, I turned and reentered the court, slowly
retracing my steps. As I again reached the gate of the house I stopped
to look up once more at the windows, and turning, I found the man whom I
had last noticed close behind me.
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