” “Oh, okay. " "The Black Lion!" echoed Terence. Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well. " Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check.
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