‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Loving was better than that. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. ” Sir John frowned. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. “I’ll get a towel. ” She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's.
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