She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Perhaps in two or three weeks. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. " "No," said Ruth, pulling back. . “It is a secret mission,” she declared.
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