Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. It is no crime, none at all. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. She was, she guessed, close to the library. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. “Yes, but I act older than I look.
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