‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. “I don’t understand. He tried to make love to me. ’ ‘But if she’s going to gaol—’ ‘Just keep watch, like you’ve been told,’ Roding said severely, turning to glare at his sergeant. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. Though he never seen so much of Miss Mary as I did. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. .
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