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      She had tried to think, to realize her future; but it was hard work, for his voice was ringing in her ears, and his faceso white and haggardcame between her and the darkened window. She had promised not to go, not to leave himto avoid the scandal; and he had promised to forget that she[191] was his wife. They would be friends, in outward seeming, at any rate. She sighed. She knew she could trust him, for in all else but in marrying her for her money, she felt that he was the soul of honor, and a promise would be sacred to him.When Sylvia smiles

      Norman stepped forward to offer the money; then he remembered that his worldly wealth consisted of about ten pounds, and his face fell; but he took out his leather purse from its hiding-place and put it into Varleys hand. The other men followed suit with an almost fierce eagerness. Varley knelt beside the fire and counted the contributions; there was about forty pounds.Would Esmeralda stop in her flight andand come back? Death unites as well as divides. Under the shock of this sudden bereavement her heart might turn to Trafford, and he might melt toward her. It was not of the old man who lay in his death-sleep that Lady Ada was thinking as she sat in the darkened room. Her own fate hung in the balance.

      It does not matter, she said; and, for the same reason as before, her tone was constrained and cold.

      They had left the window. The hostess lifted her hand toward a bell-cord but the visitor stayed it, absently staring while letting herself be pressed toward the door, thrilled with a longing as wild as Anna's and for the same sight, yet cunningly pondering. Nay, waiting, rather, on instinct, which the next instant told her that Anna would inevitably go herself, no matter who stayed.

      "Oh, Miranda, isn't all this ours?"


      Varley got some water in a bowl, and offered to examine and bind up the wound. Trafford made to repulse him for a moment, then submitted with palpable indifference.


      "I don't believe it!" cried he, and sang again:


      "How much does it fall short?" asked Anna with a heart at full stop, and the pounding shock came when the shortage proved less than the missing proceeds of the bazaar. For there heaved up the problem, whether to pass on in the blind hope of finding her heart's own, or to turn instead and seek the two detectives and the salvation of a city. This was the dilemma which in the last few days had torn half the life out of her and, more gravely than she knew, was threatening the remnant.