It showed, in spite of Mrs.Deo's effort at cleaning it, signs of her tramp through the wet lane.

He looked at it too, but it was mechanically.

He was debating in his mind a formidable question.

Should he grasp her hand, insist that she was Georgian and demand her confidence and the truth?
or should he follow the lawyer's advice and continue to accept appearances, meet her on her own ground and give her the answer called for by her lonely and forsaken position?
He found after a moment's thought that he had no choice; that he could not do the first and must do the last.
"You shall come with me," said he quietly.

"I will see that you have every suitable protection and care." She surveyed him with the same unmoved inquiry burning in her eyes.
"I don't hear," said she.
He looked at her, his lips set, his eyes as inquiring as her own.
"I don't believe it," he muttered just above his breath.
The steady stare of her eyes never faltered.
"You loved sister, love me," she whispered.
He fell back from her.