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"Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. They blinded me. You go to your room and ring for your maid. . Naturally it all came out then. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. Ennison spoke at last. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry.
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