“I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. I don’t want to bother you, of course. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. " "Are you Mr. ‘I can see why you lost your place, young Kimble. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn.
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