Three short days. “And you brought her a man, I presume. Winifred instantly picked it up. I meant to lie to you. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. I told you no good would come of it. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. “Only you are the woman I love, and you are in trouble. The blast shrieked, as if exulting in its wrathful mission. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. “I’m really very sorry. ‘It’s a pretty name. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. CHAPTER III.
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