She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. " Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation.
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