She has no proof—yet. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. "If this document is correct," continued Wood, "and I am persuaded it is so,— you are as unfortunate as wicked. ’ ‘Of course she could not have known to whom they belonged.
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