Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. ‘What we have to find out is whether or not the wretched female is in fact Lord Charvill’s granddaughter. ” “That sounds more promising,” Lady Lescelles declared. Just. Marvel. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea.
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