There is Mr. ” He said. “I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. ‘Is she the Frenchie we’ve been watching for then, sir?’ The lady’s furious features turned on this new target. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house.
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