Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. Vorsack echoed him. But it was very hard to follow. " "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone. But from the rest—you saved me. ” “I wonder how he treated Gwen. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing.
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