She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Get all ready for his reception. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist.
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