My servant. You will only make me hurt you the more. Mr. I want you. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. His eyes were closed. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear.
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