“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel.
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