And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. ’ Trodger had started towards the stairs, signing to his men to get behind the lady. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death.
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