“No,” I said, reassured; “there are the same unborn babies there. But
who, then, was that brute you ran from?”
She put her arms round my neck.
“He--he is a groom of madam’s, and high in favour with her because a
good Catholic. She bids me listen to him; and--and I don’t know what
she means, Diana, or what he means. He is a coarse and violent
man--sometimes. But she forces me into his company, and to see the
town together. And O, Diana! I am almost sure he drinks too much.”