" "Yes, I will," replied Jack sullenly, "if you beat me in that way. “Please forgive me, Lucy. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. ” “Why not?” she asked quietly. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman.
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