She turned again to the first telegram.
"This is an answer, this cablegram from Cairo ?" "Yes." "To a cable of yours ?" "Sent three days ago." The answers she received were clear, unhesitating.

It was a voice from a rock speaking! So utterly mistaken was she; and so completely Luttrell bent every nerve to the service of shortening the hour of misery.

The appalling moment was then actually upon her.

She had foreseen it--so she thought.

But it caught her nevertheless unprepared as death catches a sinner on his bed.
She stared at the telegrams--not reading them.