“A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize. ‘Cousin? But I am a fool. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. Maggot. ” He said as Cathy took his coat and alternately handed him back his bouquet of red roses. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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