The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. I must leave England to-night. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. ” “That settles it. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Shari’s married and got two kids on her, a boy and a girl, twins, no less. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside.
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