"I dare not, Rowland," she answered. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. Yet he stays. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. Clothes.
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