She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. “I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. He saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. I know nothing of that young lady.
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