His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. ‘Here we go again. She is Bohemian to the fingertips. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. CHAPTER I. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation.
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