CHAPTER THIRTY
Lydia Canfield was in Paris with her great-aunt Margaret. Paris had not been her destination when she left Rainbow—in fact she had had no definite objective, except that of escape. Where she went she did not care, so long as she was putting miles between her and her home. She was fleeing in a panic—she did not dare look behind her…. Lydia could see nothing, could think of nothing but Titus Burke; the man obsessed her; his every word, his every feature, every shambling movement of his unsightly body was engraved upon her memory…. But above all other things was one more dreadful than the rest: in Titus Burke she had seen, unmistakably, undeniably, a physical resemblance to Angus….
Her great-aunt, a stately, severe old lady who had lived abroad these forty years, received her when at last she came to France, and took her home. She did not ask questions, needed to ask none to be certain that Lydia had sought her as a refuge from disaster…. And so, being a
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