You come with those clear eyes of yours, as valiant as an angel. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Capes most unfair,” Miss Klegg went on in a small, even voice; “MOST unfair! I’m glad you spoke out as you did. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. It is no crime, none at all. “I expected you this morning,” he said. Fast. Manning, with entirely suitable emotion. “Please come home. .
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