‘Laisse-moi. People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. ” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. You must have figured that out by now. A time may come,—and that ere long,—when you will be glad to purchase my secrets, and your own safety, at a dearer price than the heads of your companions.
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