They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. No— no, it must never be. His face warm, Captain Roding glared them into silence, and firmly marched his captive off down Piccadilly, heading for Stratton Street where the town house of the Alderley family was situated. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. 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.
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