CHAPTER II.
All life is an adventure, even the most monotonous moments of it.
It is impossible to walk the streets of London without being conscious of that spirit of the possibility of happenings which makes life tolerable.

It was not to feast their eyes upon unknown worlds, or drench their hands in a stream of gold, that the old marauders of England set forth upon the high seas.

Assuredly it must have been, in the hearts of them, that love of adventure, that desire for the happenings of strange things which spurred them on to face God in the wind, to dare Him in the tempest, to brave Him even into the unknown.
Some of that instinct, but in its various and lesser degrees, is left in us now.

For one moment it rose in the mind of Sally Bishop, as she turned into Bedford Street and directed her course towards Piccadilly Circus.

It had crossed her mind in suspicion--the uprush of an idea, as a bubble struggles to the surface--that the man whom she had found waiting outside the premises of Bonsfield & Co.