’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. “May I sit beside you?” “It’s a very difficult one,” said her aunt. hopelessly, and it made me desperate. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. You understand me, Charcoal. ” “You don’t. “You are coming in, aren’t you, Sydney?” “If I may,” he answered. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound. But, as he made no answer, he was removed. She began to tremble violently. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. I did not lay any traps for her. I see.
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