‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. “I believe it is. “She will take her risk,” she answered. She heard him come in; the light burned on. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. It was clear it must be to-morrow. The walls of the room were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless bottles and many appliances of surgical science.
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