’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. Forgive my daring. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. ’ Melusine’s eyes misted. Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. "Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. ‘Then open it quickly. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips.
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