Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. To—to find myself. She looked about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in the west. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald.
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