‘I have justice. " "Would you have had him spare my mother's murderer?" cried Winifred. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. A millionaire and a knight, even though his money has been made in carpets, is used to being a person of interest. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. Mrs.
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