Theola stood frozen into immobility.
“Oh, here you are, Theola!” the Duke stated.
“I did not expect to see you, Uncle Septimus!” Theola faltered.
He seemed so large and overpowering. She felt herself once again being dominated by his dislike of her that seemed to emanate from him like a vibration of evil.
“I dare say not!” the Duke said, “but I am returning to England immediately and Catherine and I have called to collect you.”
“To . . . collect me?” Theola exclaimed.
“We are on our way to Khévea,” the Duke explained, “where, thank God, there is a British ship that will carry us to safety. Hurry and get ready! There is no time to lose!”
The last word of his sentence was drowned by a sudden scream from Catherine.
She had entered the room behind him and had been looking around her an
