Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. He looked at her in some embarrassment. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. “You going to the Michelle’s place for dinner?” Mike asked Lucy after the bear hugs. She crept out of the shadows. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was connected by a dark passage. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony.
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