CHAPTER XIII. I should like Mr. "Oh, I've read that!" Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of his own unhappy thoughts. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. ” Obediently, Lucy placed the stone upon the mausoleum. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. "Mr. Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John. CHAPTER XI. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. It was no use.
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