" "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. "Choose, Jack. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. Martha had the square look of solid English citizenry, which was not deceiving. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. It appears that he was an unsuccessful admirer of the lady in question, and he admits that, under the influence of drink, he broke into her rooms, and there made a determined attempt at suicide. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. The Supper at Mr. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion.
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