“One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round. " "And you married me, knowing?" "I married the man who bought a sing-song girl to give her her freedom. I must provide for my safety. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. As for money, Nigel has tons of it. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. Too late. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
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