The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. “Had he better have a nurse? I will be responsible for anything of that sort. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Without her, it was lonely. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. She shot a sudden glance at him. "Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning," continued Wild.
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