To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. Perhaps it was loneliness. I do not blame you for the act. ” “What is there to be feared?” he asked her quietly. " "I don't unterstand you," returned Mrs. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips.
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