She had to answer the strangest of letters that had ever come to her, and it was from her dear Tony, the baldest intimation of the weightiest piece of intelligence which a woman can communicate to her heart's friend.

The task of answering it was now doubled.

'I fear so, I fancy so,' she said, and she longed to cast eye over the letter again, to see if there might possibly be a loophole behind the lines.
'Then I must make my mind up to it,' said Redworth.

'I think I'll take a walk.' She smiled kindly.

'It will be our secret.' 'I thank you with all my heart, Lady Dunstane.' He was not a weaver of phrases in distress.