Then he sensed the trap. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. It was perfectly legitimate. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. His voice now had lost its ironies. "Sir Cecil is no more.
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