By this time, several of the terrified domestics appeared with lights. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake,” she said. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. The fever came. .
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