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 her; he did not intend that she should steal away afterwards. He would carry her off to some lonely camp, after which, he knew, she would be only too thankful for the desolation of nature, in which she could hide her shame.

Then a succession of confidence, lighting her dark moment like the dawn. Aunt Hope would not be a party to this outrage! Weak as she was in her sickness, her spirit broken by anxiety and straining, she could not remain passive while such a barbarous thing was being done in her house. Alma hastened to her, to implore her protection and help.

In the hall she paused at the sound of Nearing's voice. He appeared to be moving about the dining-room. It seemed a one-sided conversation, such as always went on with a certain man who confined himself generally to monosyllables, and spoke in low voice, as one speaks who has the fear in him that the sound may discover the villainy of his heart.

Mrs. Nearing lay on her bed, asleep. A lamp burned low in the room; the poor, broken creature's white hair was spread in disorder over the pillow, as if she had tossed in pain before sleep relieved her. Alma paused a terrified moment in the door, aware that appeal for protection would be hopeless there.

Of late she had seen Mrs. Nearing in this state before; for weeks she had been drugging a persistent headache and general nervous discord with laudaawn. Whatever Nearing had told her of his plans for that night must have aggravated her suffering to suck unbearable degree that she had taken almost a lethal dose