Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. What would it be without that safeguard?” Ogilvy pursued his own topic.
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