Later on, as he was being rushed across town in the car, he drew from Wade all of the distressing details.

He had never suspected the truth.

Indeed, his grandfather had kept the truth from him so successfully that he had come to look upon him as one of the fortunate few who arrive at death in the full possession of health, those who die because the machinery stops of its own accord.

And now the worst possible death was stalking his benefactor, driving,--always driving without pity.
Braden's heart was cold, his face pallid with dread as he hurried up the steps to the front door of the familiar old house.
He had forgotten Anne and his vow never to enter the house so long as she was mistress of it.

He forgot that her freedom was about to become an accomplished fact, that the thing she had anticipated was now at hand.