And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. Her voice recalled him. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. ‘I try to be. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think.
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