It's not worth a snap of the fingers .-- Begging your pardon, sir," the man went on, "the old lady in the distance there hangs about the whole of the time.

Some of my men are half scared of her." Dominey swung around.

On a mound a little distance away in the park, Rachael Unthank was standing.

In her rusty black clothes, unrelieved by any trace of colour, her white cheeks and strange eyes, even in the morning light she was a repellent figure.

Dominey strolled across to her.
"You see, Mrs.Unthank," he began-- She interrupted him.