CHAPTER II. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. "Women are always balling up and muddling clean cases. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. "I don't think that's likely.
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