“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. Here was one that subtly mocked her. She turned off the light and approached the window. Annabel had been here then. "You came hither under my protection, and you shall depart freely,—nay, more, you shall have an hour's grace. We may be stopped.
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