This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. We have to hang about in the interval. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone. I will hold Hilary in check, never fear. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way.
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