"If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. His subjects, however, were no longer entirely under his control; and, though he managed to enforce some little attention to his commands, it was evident his authority was waning fast. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous.
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