“Read this, John. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out. ’ ‘It is money you mean, no?’ Melusine asked with scorn.
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