" "Hum!" "Have you any reason to suppose he survived the accident?" inquired Thames eagerly. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. It had been discussed in silence. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it.
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