"You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Wood's present position, and subsequent proceedings fully intelligible, it may be necessary to give some notion of the shape and structure of the platform on which he had taken refuge. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. Let me run you for six months. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it.
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