But her misery was his opportunity and he rejoiced
while the tenderest pity seemed to flood his whole being. He pointed out
to her that she knew who he was. He was Mrs. Fyne's brother. And, well,
if his sister was the best friend she had in the world, then, by Jove, it
was about time somebody came along to look after her a little.
Flora had tried more than once to free herself, but he tightened his
grasp of her arm each time and even shook it a little without ceasing to
speak. The nearness of his face intimidated her. He seemed striving to
look her through. It was obvious the world had been using her ill. And
even as he spoke with indignation the very marks and stamp of this ill-
usage of which he was so certain seemed to add to the inexplicable
attraction he felt for her person. It was not pity alone, I take it. It
was something more spontaneous, perverse and exciting. It gave him the
feeling that if only he could get hold of her, no woman would belong to
him so completely as this woman.
"Whatever your troubles," he said, "I am the man to take you away from
them; that is, if you are not afraid.
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