He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. Louis the Fourteenth yet lived, and expectations were, therefore, indulged of assistance from France. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. He sent me home. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went on nervously. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. Everybody talking of you. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. She winced when first she heard the preparation-room door open and Capes came down the laboratory; but when at last he reached her she was self-possessed.
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