Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. I should like to have had you forgive me. Earles, but it is a good one. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. There was some one there. He spoke English with astonishing facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. He frowned. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you. You haven't heard my side if it, Hoddy.
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