Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. ” Lucy put the back of her hand to Michelle’s forehead. ‘By the by, get Trodger to send up one of our best men, will you? Someone discreet. You shall know the truth. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. “My mind is full of confused stuff,” he said at length.
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