I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. "Sir Rowland must be gone. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. "I've won, after all. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Sepulchre's church struck one, on the eventful night of the 10th of June, (to which it will not be necessary to recur,) a horseman, mounted on a powerful charger, and followed at a respectful distance by an attendant, galloped into the open space fronting Newgate, and directed his course towards a house in the Old Bailey.
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