Supper was over. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. Sheppard. ‘And me, I am a lady. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out.
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