‘But a spy I am not. I guess we could go for a ride. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. "No offence," returned Jonathan.
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