“Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. The response of her body was enough that she lazily opened her eyes. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. But go on. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. “I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Look here. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Leave the rest to me.
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