“I can’t help saying it,” she said, with the quality of her voice altering, “but I do NOT think it is right for an unprotected girl to be in London alone as you are. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. Wood, I forget nothing. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. The truth at once flashed across his mind. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village.
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