"I shan't see that black witch," cried the poor major. "David--Etwald, send her away.",
"So that was what you were up to?" she said. "I knew you had something on your mind, Judy Kendall, you crafty, clever thing. How perfectly glorious to think you're really in print!",
"I'll sing 'Mary of Argyle' first, and then a new little song, but it won't sound very well without any accompaniment," she said simply, and then, folding her hands before her and tilting her head like a bird, she began to sing, softly at first and then louder till her voice soared and rang echoing through the bare, empty rooms that flanked the lunch rooms..
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