” “You are very good, Mr. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. . ” “You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the thought of your trying anything else was amazing. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. The thought of beauty became an obsession. " "Doubt me not," replied Thames. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. Not so Gosse.
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