She was not a girl to make a fuss.

If they had killed her outright, she would never have uttered a cry." "Why do you say they ?" "Because I am confident I heard more than one man's voice in her room." "Humph! Would you know those voices if you heard them again ?" "No." There was a surprise in this last negative which Mr.Gryce evidently noticed.
"I ask," said he, "because I have been told that Mr.Blake lately kept a body servant who has been seen to look at this girl more than once, when she has passed him on the stairs." Mrs.Daniels' face turned scarlet with rage and she hastily rose from the chair.

"I don't believe it," said she; "Henry was a man who knew his place, and--I won't hear such things," she suddenly exclaimed; "Emily was--was a lady, and--" "Well, well," interposed Mr.Gryce soothingly, "though the cat looks at the king, it is no sign the king looks at the cat.

We have to think of everything you know." "You must never think of anything like that." Mr.Gryce softly ran his thumb around the brim of the hat he held in his hand.

"Mrs.Daniels," observed he, "it would greatly facilitate matters if you would kindly tell us why you take such an interest in this girl.
One glimpse at her real history would do more towards setting us on the right track than anything else you could offer." Her face assumed an unmistakable frown.