” She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they both stood still. I would not have him know—now—for the world. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. " "Bring your story to an end, Sir," said Trenchard who had listened to the recital with mingled emotions of rage and fear. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course.
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