“You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. "Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. “So she must have had you fairly young, right?” Lucy nodded again. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above.
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