Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. "Will that do?" he added, returning it. " "Not now," returned Thames, impatiently. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John.
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