She felt sick; she sank upon a seat, staring up at him. "Do you mean that great house is lost?" "And what did you say to that?"!

"That can hardly have removed her impression that there are things I put you up to." Mrs. Gereth watched Fleda and considered. "You haven't any idea if they are waiting for the things?"

"To save you? I see. You mean I must get rid of her for you." His blankness showed for a little that he felt the chill of her cold logic; but as she waited for his rejoinder she knew to which of them it cost most. He gasped a minute, and that gave her time to say: "You see, Mr. Owen, how impossible it is to talk of such things yet!" "For you, of course—to entreat me to give you up. She thinks me awfully designing—that I've taken some sort of possession of you." "Yes, I didn't quite understand—but I think I understand now. The case is simple and logical enough. She's a person who's upset by failure and who blooms and expands with success. There was something she had set her heart upon, set her teeth about—the house exactly as she had seen it."