" The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill.
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