‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. "Not a syllable," replied Wild. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. \"I told you he likes you!\" She whispered hotly into Lucy's ear. ” She laughed softly. . "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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