" "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. “No, don’t interrupt me. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. “You are beautiful, Lucy. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle. It is no good going into that. . Ruth shivered; she was cold. He called it "The Man Who Could Not Go Home. Stay where you are, Mr.
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