There was a pause for a few moments, and then Mrs Hallam drew her child more closely to her side.
“You dare not paint the horrors that await us there, Christie Bayle,” she then said in a softened tone. “There is no need. The recital would fall on barren ground. The horrors suffered by the husband and father, his wife and child will gladly dare.”
“You cannot. You shall not. For God’s sake pause!”
“When my husband bids me come? Christie Bayle, you do not know me yet,” she said softly.
“But, Mrs Hallam—Millicent, my child!” cried Sir Gordon imploringly.
“I cannot listen to your appeals,” she said in a piteous tone, and with the tears at last gushing from her aching eyes.
“Ah,” cried Bayle excitedly, “she is giving way. Millicent Luttrell, for your own, for your child’s sake, you will stay.”
She rose up proudly once more.
“Millicent Hallam and her child will go.”
Sir Gordon made an imploring movement.