“Miserable bounder,” he murmured. ” She said dryly. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. "Not materially, Mr. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. He smiled inwardly. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. " And she flung herself between them. Quite ordinary. Poor little one. ’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding.
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