” “Clear out?” cried Hetty. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. "I suppose I must have been senseless for some time; for, on coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and the ground covered with blood. Thames Darrell. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. The truth was impossible, indecent. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. No wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change his mind. ‘And how do you propose to get in?’ ‘Scullery window. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. The Times slipped from his fingers.
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