’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. Her voice was weak and flat. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. 7. ” She stopped.
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