” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. He entered the driver’s side, not inserting the keys in the ignition. 97 “For what, kiddo?” Larry turned his head slightly to one side. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She was instinctively aware of him as she had been of Julian. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. . .
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