The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. " Mr. “Sure. You can pull it over on everybody else, Lucy, but not on me. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. “I think that you are very dense. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind.
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