"God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. He threw the doctor out of the Palazzo on his rear, sending him to the insane plague-infested streets. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick.
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