He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. "The gen'l'man'll be here directly.
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