Figg?" asked Gay. . "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. \" She fibbed. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. But to England we will go. I had special ways of getting out of the basement without them noticing, and often I could smuggle a child or two out for 160 the day and they were never the wiser. I am tired, and I want to be alone.
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