CONUNDRUM NUMBER FIVE
THE TRAGEDY AT GREYMARSHES
"Spring," Leonard declared, fanning himself with his straw hat and breathing in the ozone from the waves which rippled up to within a few yards of our chairs, "is upon us."
"I must get some new frocks," Rose murmured absently.
"To-morrow," I reflected, "I must go through my tennis flannels."
"Jolly good-looking girl that was with the party from the Grange at the show last night," Leonard continued reminiscently. "I liked the way her eyelashes curled. Jolly fine figure, too."
"The tutor man is quite handsome," Rose ruminated. "He ties his black evening bow just the way I like."
"Handsome!" I scoffed. "Why, he's got a cast in his eye! He reminds me, more than anything, of the plaster villains in the Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud's."