Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. And, dragging Mrs. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered.
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