“But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. ‘Laisse-moi. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. Ah Cum explained. " "My strength fails me," gasped the fugitive. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did.
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