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 She drew a deep breath of reassurance.

He was safe, after all! And all else, for a moment, seemed to swing below the rim of her world.

&quot;Your mother—?&quot; she then said, with a fresh start of fear.

&quot;It's not my mother.&quot; They had reached the terrace, and he moved toward the house. &quot;Let us go indoors. There's such a beastly glare out here.&quot;

He seemed to find relief in the cool obscurity of the drawing-room, where, after the brightness of the afternoon light, their faces were almost indistinguishable to each other. She sat down, and he moved a few paces away. Before the writing-table he paused to look at the neatly sorted heaps of wedding-cards.

&quot;They are to be sent out to-morrow?&quot;

&quot;Yes.&quot;

He turned back and stood before her.

&quot;It's about the woman,&quot; he began