” “Cabmen are so trying,” Mrs. I could not dream of loving you. She was making it up. ‘She may well try to go back. I'm a poor nurse. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. It was a purse.
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