She was no fool, she was innocent in
act, but she knew that her innocence would indeed be hard to prove--even
her own father did not believe in it, and her sister would openly accuse
her to the world. What then should she do? Should she hide herself in
some remote half-civilised place, or in London? It was impossible; she
had no money, and no means of getting any. Besides, they would hunt
her out, both Owen Davies and Geoffrey would track her to the furthest
limits of the earth. And would not the former think that Geoffrey had
spirited her away, and at once put his threats into execution? Obviously
he would. There was no hope in that direction. Some other plan must be
found or her lover would still be ruined.
So argued Beatrice, still thinking not of herself, but of Geoffrey,
of that beloved one who was more to her than all the world, more, a
thousand times, than her own safety or well-being. Perhaps she overrated
the matter. Owen Davies, Lady Honoria, and even Elizabeth might have
done all they threatened; the first of them, perhaps the first two
of them, certainly would have done so.
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