’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. But that title he would not endure. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. I can see the whole thing was just a set-up for sequels, though. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. I let him take me to the English Embassy, and we went through some sort of a ceremony.
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