‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. . "I am happy—quite happy now. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. ’ Bitterness rose up as he looked at the female. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman. . E.
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