I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her.
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