‘So it was. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. If Thames is murdered, you are his assassin. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. Ennison paused by the little gate. The worst was over now. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face.
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