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Updated: July 3, 2025
"My God!" he groaned, "it's you, Flora Valcour, who've killed me. Oh, how did how did you was it accid' wasn't it accident? Fly!" He flung her loose. "For your life, fly! Oh, that gun! Oh, God send it! Fly! Oh, Anna, Anna Callender! Oh, your city, Flora Valcour, your own city! Fly, poor child! I'll keep up the sham for you!"
But she got no farther than "I met Mr. Dis-bart accid " when she stopped, ashamed. It was reverence for Gavin that checked the lie. Not every man has had such a compliment paid him. "It is natural," Gavin said, slowly, "that you, sir, should wonder why I am here with this woman at such an hour, and you may know me so little as to think ill of me for it."
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