glance often wandered, and she made much play with her still beautiful hands.
Her dread of Chiozzi and his treatment of her seemed to Eric the most important part of her story. It was that he had to deal with now. She said he had threatened her life more than once in order to extort money from her. Her income had dwindled to barely seven hundred a year, all that remained of the considerable fortune left her by Morton Freeman. That much she had managed to keep intact, in spite of the efforts of her greedy Count.
"If I go back to him," she said with a shudder, "he'll have it all."
Eric dreaded the idea of a divorce. Her affairs had already had so much unsavory publicity.
"You must not think of going back to him at present," he told her. "Later we will see what can be done. You can write to him from London, if you wish."
"I dread London."
"You will be safest there. And you will find that people have forgotten. You must try to begin again, my dear, and be content with contentment, and simple things. You will not find life exciting, but you may find it pleasant. I will do what I can, and you will have mother, who is
