To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. “You poor little girl!” he cried. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. The man was dangerous. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. “These are for you. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Langley," rejoined Mrs.
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