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Never had she seemed gayer or brighter. Perhaps in her heart of hearts
she rejoiced at getting Mary engaged, even to so humble a suitor as
fortuneless John Hammond. Ever since the visit of the so-called Rajah
she had lived as Damocles lived, with the sword of destiny--the avenging
sword--hanging over her by the finest hair. Every time she heard
carriage wheels in the drive--every time the hall-door bell rang a
little louder than usual, her heart seemed to stop beating and her whole
being to hang suspended on a thread. If the thread were to snap, there
would come darkness and death. The blow that had paralysed one side of
her body must needs, if repeated, bring total extinction. She who
believed in no after life saw in her maimed and wasting arm the
beginning of death. She who recognised only the life of the body felt
that one half of her was already dead. But months had gone by, and Louis
Asoph had made no sign. She began to hope that his boasted documents and
witnesses were altogether mythical. And yet the engines of the law are
slow to put in motion.


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368 369 370 371 372 373 374 375 376 377 378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392