’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. This vessel is now in the river, off Wapping. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her.
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