It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. They could not go on. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. ’ ‘Wouldn’t you?’ ‘In Valade’s place, with so much at stake—and more perhaps than he thought, for if he goes to the lawyers he’s bound to find out about this house—’ Hilary said it for him. You are in the hands of a wicked, a terrible man, who will not stop till he has completed your destruction.
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