home alone. There wa

he firs

t! 'Twill be a bad hour for Roland Tresham

a word of love

g it––more shame to him,

a pretty girl? I call

heart for the clever he was, and the devil in his eyes and on his tongue. 'Twas all wrong, my dear, or I wouldn't be feeling so hot and a

t trust m

n't have lost themselves. It takes a man to know men and all the wickedness m

love and pride. But she was immediately sensitive to the troubled, angry atmosphere in which