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Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. "That's for myself," rejoined Mrs. "If the Captain is taken to Tyburn, be near the place of execution—at the end of the Edgeware Road. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters.
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