" "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. Good night. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. It will be altogether you. I haven’t taken much account of it until now. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London.
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