"What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Cautioning the knight, if he valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then descended a steep flight of steps; and, having reached the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted him; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-cellar. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. As a rule their comings and goings were discussed with perfect confidence, but on this occasion they both felt that there was intent in her silence as to her destination. It was the moment for smiles. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. Their conversation hung. “Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, before the show, you know—last September I think it was.
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