” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. C. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. But I'll not believe it of you. “But that’s not all. Earles drew out his cheque book. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. ” It was sitting in her suitcase in the same pocket as the expired bus tickets.
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