Hilary could not have suggested such a thing. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. Then fury claimed her and she could no longer pretend. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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