"One of us has got to die," he panted. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. Mary is very good, but she is too nervous to be the slightest protection. She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look as long as I live. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. “Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round.
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