His glasses were gone. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. “I’m not going to kill you, John. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. CHAPTER XXIV. 75 “Lucy’s going to Prom with John Diedermayer?” Cathy nodded emphatically.
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