She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse.
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