"Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. Don't you remember? There were four of us, and we went touring in the city. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. Imbecile. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard.
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