" "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. I spoke a thought aloud. ’ ‘Oh, she is English?’ repeated Alderley, interest perking up. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice.
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