The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. She would ignore him. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. You can go for a walk with Lucy. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. It was hard to resist.
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