Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. I’m very resourceful, you know. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Let the law put its hand on his shoulder—if it could! But at present he was at liberty, and he purposed to remain in that state. Help! help!" But her cries were unheeded.
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