"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake,” she said. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. It is dull—deadly dull. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought.
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