" "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you. “I might go home, I don’t know. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends.
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