It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. “You are late,” she murmured. Her answer was not quite ready. Have you any more questions to ask me?” Sir John, on his way down, had determined to hint to this young woman that, providing certain contingencies which he had in his mind should come to pass, he would be prepared to make her a handsome offer to change her name. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. She shook her head. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket.
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