The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. "One of us has got to die," he panted. "Crime upon crime. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. ” “And for me,” Anna echoed. There was no one to be seen in the great hall. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft.
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