God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. “I will tell you the truth. I will not trust you. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. ” He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face.
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