” “Is it necessary,” he said, “for me to tell you——” “Stop, please,” she said firmly. No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She must kill this man, or kill herself. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. CHAPTER I. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. All other things were without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young man would have to depend upon her for his life.
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