277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. You are in the hands of a wicked, a terrible man, who will not stop till he has completed your destruction. Kneebone?" "He'd better not," muttered Blueskin. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. It is a big house and there are many rooms in which to hide. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play.
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