” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. . Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know.
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