She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. "But you've done well to trust me. I have work there.
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