" "No. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. She took Mr. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants they could not discover a single trace. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. I would do anything—I would give anything to make you mine. But did many women get anything better? This afternoon, when she was urgent to explain her hampering and tainting complication with Ramage, the realization of this alien quality in her relationship with Manning became acute. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done.
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