“I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. Now, in her old place, she was doing her best thoroughly to enjoy a most indifferent dinner. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window.
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