8/32 You don't look much like a ghost, sir." Mother Holf's face was livid now, and her eyes staring fixedly. Perhaps it shot into her brain that something had happened to the king, and that this man had come because of it--this man who was indeed the image, and might have been the spirit, of the king. She leant against the door post, her broad bosom heaving under her scanty stuff gown. Yet still--was it not the king? "Where is Count Rupert ?" The girl had caught alarm from her mother's agitation. |