“But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. Wood. "You are free," said he, "that grating forms a ladder, by which you may descend in safety. "When I went through your trunk that first night, I discovered an envelope filled with manuscripts. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp. . It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days.
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