“It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. He had only to recall this fact (which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go around or over. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard.
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