CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. His name was Peter. But I want to know what you are doing. ” He held out his hand obediently. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. ’ His friend held it out of the way.
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