" She sent a covert glance toward the young man. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. ” She paused, and he waited for her to speak. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. It drives one mad at times. ” Anna drew out her purse at once. I'll go alone. ’ ‘Take care,’ warned Hilary, his eyes on his improvised bandage.
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