Surely he was imagining this picture. " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. "Take off these chains, Rowland," said Lady Trafford, "instantly, I command you. He seemed to be about to move toward her. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. I am not afraid that you may try to make love to me. You know what's what.
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