her child to be educated in Paris. It seemed only likely that she would be there.”
“Yes,” Mr. Carmichael said, “it seems more than probable.”
The Indian gentleman leaned forward and struck the table with a long, wasted hand.
“Carmichael,” he said, “I MUST find her. If she is alive, she is somewhere. If she is friendless and penniless, it is through my fault. How is a man to get back his nerve with a thing like that on his mind? This sudden change of luck at the mines has made realities of all
that the wind howled over the roof among the chimneys like something which wailed aloud. Then there was something worse. This was certain scufflings and scratchings and squeakings in the walls and behind the skirting boards. She knew what they meant, because Becky had described them. They meant rats