‘Wait for me. " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. ” She played with her hair. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. I am loved. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. But you’ve got to lend me forty pounds. “Then I don’t take this as final. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage.
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