. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. She seemed honestly glad to see him. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. " "Back!" cried Rowland.
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