As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. ‘What a fate he finds for me. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. " "I'll ring for one," replied Kneebone, rising accordingly; "but I fear my servants are gone to bed. " "I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate.
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