"Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. I am your servitor. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. ” She departed from the couch and went upstairs to find John. ‘Good. ‘So I shall do so. It is to set me right with Winifred. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. A long and secret conference then took place between the thief-taker and his myrmidons, after which they were severally dismissed. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral.
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