She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Then she went up-stairs again, dressed herself carefully for town, put on her most businesslike-looking hat, and with a wave of emotion she found it hard to control, walked down to catch the 3. Refused admittance, they broke open the door. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him.
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