Sparling's
money, and then to make a midnight flitting, leaving their victim to
her fate.
"The _denouement_, however, came with frightful rapidity. The Wings had
taken an old house at the back of the downs for the summer, no doubt to
escape from some of the notoriety they had gained in Brighton. There--to
her final ruin--Juliet Sparling was induced to join them, and gambling
began again; she still desperately hoping to replace the trust money,
and salving her conscience, as to her sister, by drawing for the time on
the sums lent her by Francis Wing.--Here at last Lady Wing's suspicion
was aroused, and Mrs. Sparling found herself between the hatred of the
wife and the dishonorable passion of the husband. Yet to leave them
would be the signal for exposure. For some time the presence of other
guests protected her. Then the guests left, and one August night after
dinner, Francis Wing, who had drunk a great deal of champagne, made
frantic love to her. She escaped from him with difficulty, in a passion
of loathing and terror, and rushed in-doors, where she found Lady Wing
in the gallery of the old house, on the first floor, walking up and down
in a jealous fury.
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