She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. He was damned if he knew what to do. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. He was—a millionaire. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like.
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