Then she told herself severely that she should be grateful.
If it had not been for Quintus Tiverton, she would at this moment be the prisoner of Mrs. Devilin, perhaps having endured another beating at her hands once they had arrived in Baden-Baden.
‘I am so lucky, so very very lucky,’ she whispered to herself. But somehow there was a little sob behind the words.
*
The following morning Selina was almost dressed when there came a knock at the communicating door.
“Can I come in?” Quintus Tiverton asked.
“Oh, you are awake,” she exclaimed. “I expected you to be very late in rising this morning.”
He entered her room wearing riding breeches.
“I am going to blow away the cobwebs and the atmosphere of wine and cigars by riding for at least an hour,” he said. “As a matter of fact I am goin
