"
The letter fell from her hands; cold drops of fear and shame
stood upon her brow; hatred and disgust filled her heart. Oh,
that she should ever have placed herself in the power of such a
man!
The blow had fallen at last. She stood face to face with her
shame and fear. How could she meet Hugh Fernely? What should
she say to him? How must such a meeting end? It would but anger
him the more. He should not even touch her hand in greeting, she
said to herself; and how would he endure her contempt?
She would not see him. She dared not. How could she find time?
Lord Airlie never left her side. She could not meet Hugh. The
web seemed closing round her, but she would break through it.
She would send him a letter saying she was ill, and begging him
to wait yet a little longer. Despite his firm words, she knew he
would not refuse it if she wrote kindly. Again came the old hope
something might happen in a few days. If not, she must run
away; if everything failed and she could not free herself from
him, then she would leave home; in any case she would not fall
into his hands--rather death than that.
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