Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. ‘Ha! Just the person I want. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. It was after all a momentary affair. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. “Goodnight. I think that there is no better friend for a girl than a man rather older than herself. ’ ‘You know, Gerald,’ Lucilla put in thoughtfully, forestalling a withering rejoinder from the captain, ‘there may be something in that. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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