"Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. "Stop thief!" clamoured the rabble behind. 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. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. Bête, she told herself fiercely.
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