” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. ’ Her face fell. \" Lucy replied. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. Until the last moment she was afraid. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. Lady Trafford, supposed to be childless, broken in health and spirits, frail both in mind and body, is not likely to make another marriage. .
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