It was still possible the child might be in safety. “I think that you were inquiring for Mr. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue.
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