“With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. “It might be a policeman borrowing the driveway and looking out for speeders. You go to your room and ring for your maid. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Ruth could not be told now. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. And your great-niece. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind.
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