Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. She stood there limply and did not act to resist him. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. ’ A laugh escaped her. He grunted, and his grip gave. After all, why need one look down. ” 162 “Mmmm-hmmm. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ’ A giggle answered him. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance.
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