Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. If and when Ray was ever found, she would be long gone and they would be unable to explain what had happened to him.
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