“God forgive me—but the child must be saved, Mr. Anstruther. You’ll do this?”
“Why, of course.”
“And when your trouble is over, you will go to England?”
“One thing at a time. They might send me to Siberia.”
“It will be best so,” he said earnestly.
“What? Siberia for me?” I laughed.
“No, no. God forbid. England—England as soon as you can.”
“And Volna? Does she—know of this?”
“Indeed, no. Her one thought is of the trouble she may already have brought upon you. She would never agree to it.”
I believed that. “Should I—see her to—to say good-bye?”