He might have supposed the fellow would be eager to be rid of the tale, for that he might have longer to enjoy the amenities of the Triumphal Chariot where the meeting had been appointed. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. . . ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. ’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. “But, forgive me, you are tired. How are you?” “I’m fine,” she said, unaware of all events except for the voice on the other line. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact.
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