"What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. I can accommodate you below. It’s well hidden, miss. She never calls herself ‘Alcide. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. ’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. It is only the women matter. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason.
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