As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention.
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