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The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily. " The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly pressure. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her.
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