” “You disappoint me,” she said wearily. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. She could not say who, not yet. " "I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. She was suddenly grave. I want to get away—to go to London. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. Her name was Rhea. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. He was in a position to help her.
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