At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. “The conventions do not matter one little bit. As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
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