Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered. The others hurried to the window. “I do not blame him. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. White rang the bell. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission.
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