Her hand stole out to him across the table, but she kept her face away from him. Until she felt his grasp grow tight, and then she turned and their eyes met. “Of course you know best, dear,” she admitted. “Perhaps I am a bit too fond of bright things.”!

“He will come this afternoon, I fancy,” said Mrs. Phillips. “I seem to feel it. He will be able to see you home.” “Enough for the two of them?” demanded Mr. Singleton. “Because he will want them. Now think before you speak.”

“But can’t you see yourself, you wicked child, without stripping yourself as naked as you were born?” “Try and find me brainy,” he whispered to her, as soon as Flossie was out of earshot. “Talk to me about China. I’m quite intelligent on China.” Mrs. Denton was a short, grey-haired lady. Her large strong features must have made her, when she was young, a hard-looking woman; but time and sorrow had strangely softened them; while about the corners of the thin firm mouth lurked a suggestion of humour that possibly had not always been there. Joan, waiting to be introduced, towered head and shoulders above her; yet when she took the small proffered hand and felt those steely blue eyes surveying her, she had the sensation of being quite insignificant. Mrs. Denton seemed to be reading her, and then still retaining Joan’s hand she turned to Madge with a smile.