95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. It was the grand nursery of vice. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. Jack was completely overcome. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. ‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. . You came out like an ant for your nuptial flight. "Now—begin. ‘If ever I met such a pair of lunatics!’ ‘Give me that, Hilary,’ Gerald said at once, ignoring his remark and reaching out for the handkerchief.
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