At last the words came, a mere sighing breath:

“ Seven Dials⁠ ⁠… tell⁠ ⁠…”

“Yes,” said Bundle again. It was a name he was trying to get out⁠—trying with all his failing strength. “Yes. Who am I to tell?”

“ Tell⁠ ⁠… Jimmy Thesiger⁠ ⁠… ” He got it out at last, and then, suddenly, his head fell back and his body went limp.

Bundle sat back on her heels, shivering from head to foot. She could never have imagined that anything so awful could have happened to her. He was dead⁠—and she had killed him.