148 “Sure. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. The woman I wanted was another man's wife. "Here are some letters, which will let you see what a snake you've cherished in your bosom, you uxorious old dotard," said Blueskin, tossing a packet of papers to Wood, as he followed his leader. " "Aliva Trenchard!" exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard. His smile faded. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. Annabel thought, and thought again. "All right.
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