There are unwritten laws governing human conduct. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. You don’t understand, Lucy, they just aren’t like that. In vain Wood protested his innocence. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill.
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