She snatched about in her mind. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. E. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. No doubt that was due to his helplessness. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. I’m taking no chances. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. ’ Her face fell. To his relief, she nodded.
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