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" "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. “Experte credo. ’ Melusine did not forget. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. But no more of that. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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