But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. “Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. Be honest, and you will be happy. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance.
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