The door to the room in question was closed. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted this new thing. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. But a biddable girl. For a long time neither spoke again. She was listed for the raid—she was informed it was to be a raid upon the House of Commons, though no particulars were given her—and told to go alone to 14, Dexter Street, Westminster, and not to ask any policeman to direct her. "Back!" he cried fiercely. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. “For one thing I am going to marry David Courtlaw.
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