CHAPTER XIII. I am dreadfully sad. He must have been following her from room to room, silent in his stockinged feet. She lost it in the Mint. Martha had been more to her than that. ” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men.
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