Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. " "Pshaw!" cried Thames. The weed was all right. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. "I had a terrible dream last night. The stranger turned his head at the sound. CHAPTER II. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him.
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