"Yes … but dreadfully tired. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. “May I hear?” “It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. . He will wish to have his fears laid to rest. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. He did his best not to grin.
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