” “We will go together,” she answered. White said. So am I. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection. In an instant, she turned on him. It simply doesn’t count. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. ’ ‘So Charvill did tell him,’ Gerald said, once more staring into the hole in the wall. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. . I haven’t, anyhow. THAMES DARRELL.
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