CHAPTER XXVI. The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. He was now almost driven to despair. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies.
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