And, dragging Mrs. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. She entered the last room, his bedroom. “Oh, Lucy.
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