The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. It could not go on much longer, her luck. “I wish he had,” she said. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. I'll lay my life he's gone. " "Perhaps he is from Lord Derwentwater, or Mr. " The Wastrel laughed. Mr. ” She said. "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. ’ ‘But where then is Gosse?’ demanded Melusine. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know.
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