The signal of distress was evidently understood. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. ’ ‘Lord, yes,’ agreed Gerald, in mock horror. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. The doll she had never owned, the cat and the dog that had never been hers: here they were, strangely incorporated in this sleeping man.
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