There was plenty of sweet water. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. ” He ruminated for a minute. , Ltd. ’ ‘Don’t count on it.
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