Perhaps, after all, the others were right. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. CHAPTER XXX.
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