Mr. . On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. ” Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. It’s 180 endearing.
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