Was I a fool, that I loved Sylvia Pennington with such an all-absorbing passion?
It was strangely true, as Shuttleworth had declared, the grave lay as a gulf between us.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WORD OF A WOMAN
A week went by—a week of keen anxiety and apprehension.
Jack had spoken the truth when he had declared that it was my duty to go to Scotland Yard and reveal what I had discovered regarding that dark house in Bayswater.
Yet somehow I felt that any such action on my part must necessarily reflect upon my fair-haired divinity, that sweet, soft-spoken girl who had warned me, and who, moreover, was my affinity.
Had you found yourself in such a position, how would you have acted?