“How did you find me?” She asked. Herein was the sum of human knowledge in essence. What was the matter with Spurlock that was to keep him in bed three or four weeks? He would dig that out of the hotel manager. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. You know what? I’m going to make a surprise announcement at the concert tonight, but I wanted to give you the heads up. You'll find the benefit of it by and by. Well, I've had to be.
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