It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Ain't we, partner?" he added, appealing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy. " "I am at a loss to understand you Sir,", said Trenchard. Presently he heard her voice. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Sister Angelina shook her head as if to say that such ignorance was beyond her. "While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. Light flooded the place. Nothing can alter my determination.
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