" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. You will not find it else. " So saying, he closed the lantern.
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