I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. “The Miss Pellissier who was at White’s with us. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble. She would not let her move. I must leave England to-night. At length, when he saw no escape from the inevitable, he took the four title pages from the manuscripts and typed new ones, substituting Taber for Spurlock. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. ’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her.
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