, and get some other man to live on as soon as possible. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. Quick, now. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. . He began to talk again in quick undertones that she could not clearly hear. Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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