CHAPTER XXXV THE SECRET FIGHT

Nicolette walked slowly down Harley Street. The April sunlight brightened even that solemn street of tall portentous houses—houses where daily verdicts of life or death were given, wrapped in the tactful phraseology of the medical specialist. And Nicolette had received her own sentence this morning. Not the death penalty of which she had been so frightened—far more frightened than anyone could have guessed since those dreadful occasions, when breathing seemed a suffocating impossibility, had become more frequent. T…