Easy enough to look as if one rides away. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. ‘Gone!’ he said. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. “I was very foolish to have been deceived even for a moment. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. ” He was silent for a moment or two.
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