Wood, in equal trepidation. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. "No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. “Do you happen to know whether she is supposed to be here?” “Very likely indeed,” Captain Fred Meddoes answered, lighting a cigarette.
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