“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. “Mr. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off.
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