The very thought seemed to stab her to the heart with a keen, subtle
pain which she could neither understand nor clearly define, even to
herself.
"Heaven pity her in the hour when she finds that she has been
deceived--that he married her for gold, not love," she sobbed, covering
her face with her little trembling hands.
She prayed to Heaven silently that Claire's lover, whoever he might be,
was marrying her for love, and for love alone.
So restless was she that, despite the quieting draught which the
housekeeper had induced her to swallow, she could not sleep.
But one thing remained for her to do, and that was to get up and dress
and go down to her father's library and read herself into forgetfulness
until day dawned.
Faynie acted upon the impulse, noting as she stepped from her room into
the corridor that the clock on her mantel chimed the hour of two.
She had proceeded scarcely half a dozen steps ere she became aware that
she was not alone in the corridor.
She stopped short.
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