There came a thrill in her heart each time she thought of
that--that she loved him. The idea was monstrous, of course, and
yet---- Here, as always, she broke off, a hot flush blazing in
her cheeks.... Nevertheless, such curious fancies pursued her
through the hours. She strove her mightiest to rid herself of
them, but in vain. Ever they persisted. She sought to oust them
by thinking of any one else, of Aggie, of Joe. There at last was
satisfaction. Her interference between the man who had saved her
life and the temptation of the English crook had prevented a
dangerous venture, which might have meant ruin to the one whom
she esteemed for his devotion to her, if for no other reason. At
least, she had kept him from the outrageous folly of an ordinary
burglary.
Mary Turner was just ready for bed after her evening at the
theater, when she was rudely startled out of this belief. A note
came by a messenger who waited for no answer, as he told the
yawning maid. As Mary read the roughly scrawled message, she was
caught in the grip of terror.
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