Incapable of sustaining the prolonged effort of standing, she drew back a little and took a chair.

No outward manifestation of emotion escaped her.

There she sat--with the death-like torpor of resignation in her face--waiting her sentence in silence from the man at whom she had hurled the whole terrible confession of the truth in one sentence! Julian lifted his head as she moved.

He looked at Horace, and advancing a few steps, looked again.

There was fear in his face, as he suddenly turned it toward Mercy.
"Speak to him!" he said, in a whisper.