What had
Muhlen done? He had probably threatened her with some exposure. He was
her legal husband--he could make himself abominable to her and to
Meadows. The future of the child, too, was imperiled. He might be able
to claim it; or if not that--the bishop's notions of bastardy laws were
not very clear--he could certainly rely upon his friend the magistrate
to take the child out of the mother's custody or do something horrible
of that kind. The happiness of that whole family was at his mercy. She
had been goaded to desperation. Mr. Heard began to understand. To
understand--that was not enough. Anybody could understand.
Keith took his arm and remarked:
"Come and see my cannas! They are prefect just now. I must tell you a
story about them--it's the wildest romance. I am the only person in
Europe who understands the proper cultivation of cannas. I shall have
scented ones soon."
"Don't they smell?" enquired the bishop absent-mindedly.
"Not yet. You are looking a little tired, Heard, as if you had not
slept well lately.
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