"It is quite true," Mr. Shawyer said.
Her brown eyes searched his face.
"She died saving your husband's life, Mrs. Forrester. He was waylaid by a gang of roughs, and...."
Faith made a little silencing gesture. The blood had rushed back to her white face; she did not want to hear any more. Peg had saved the Beggar Man's life. It gave her a stab of bitterest jealousy.
"Well ... well, what do you want me for?" she asked again presently.
Mr. Shawyer hated the task that had been entrusted to him.
"Your husband asked me to see you," he said reluctantly. "He wished me to tell you that he is ... going abroad as soon as he can arrange it—within the next few days possibly. He has settled a very generous income on you and your little sisters for life! A most generous income, which, he asked me to say, he hopes will in some measure make amends for your—your ... unfortunate marriage, for which he blames himself entirely."
Faith listened, but the words sounded like so much foolishness, and after waiting a moment Mr. Shawyer went on again, not looking at her.
"He also asked me to say that as soon as it is possible he will set you free, without annoyance or unpleasantness to yourself."
He stopped again and raised his eyes apologetically.