’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. There is no other way. It makes no difference. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room.
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