” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. “I wish. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. Then she called a hansom and drove home.
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