" "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. Luckily it was so dark, and there was no lamp near, that the man did not notice the condition of the body, which was placed in the vehicle by the two young men. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. She held out both her hands. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. Come back—you must come back. Gerald instantly took her arm and guided her back to her chair. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. I mean Miss Charvill no harm.
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