He reached over and took her hand. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. 150 “Homely. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. You were accused of having been seen with the latter. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. This is retribution. If I had known that you were here you should not have been kept waiting for a second. “Why?” He inquired. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. CHAPTER VI.
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