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It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. ‘C’est ridicule. A pretty name for a pretty girl. ’ He held out his hand to help the girl descend.
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