She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. A long and secret conference then took place between the thief-taker and his myrmidons, after which they were severally dismissed. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. . She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife.
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