"Not entirely," replied Jonathan, calmly; "though I shouldn't be ashamed of it if it were. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. ‘She’s gone. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible.
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