“No thanks. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ” Her passion conquered for a moment her fear. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket.
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