“Dearest, I—I——”
He caught her hands.
“There, there, I know! It shan’t be like that. I swear it. I want no wounds, and ugliness, and clamour.”
“And Lynette?”
“Yes, there is Lynette. Don’t doubt me. I am going to do the rational and best thing. I shall succeed.”
CHAPTER XLV
GERTRUDE CANTERTON CAUSES AN ANTI-CLIMAX
“Run along, old lady. Daddy’s going to write three hundred and seventy-nine letters.”
“Oh, poor daddy! And are you going to write to Miss Eve?”