“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. “You!” said Ann Veronica. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. ’ Taken aback, Gerald let out a short laugh. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. We already had a place to mislay blame. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well.
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