"Oho!" he said. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. . I’ll make any reasonable arrangement you like. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man.
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