‘Certainly you must have seen her. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. ” “I wish you good luck,” she answered. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow.
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