What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. I am clear I want you. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. She confronted him with his own double-standard. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. That is what my mother used to call me. .
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