You shall know the truth. ” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. But the love of life prevailed over his fears. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account.
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