Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Too late. Besides, she had admitted her identity. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. We all love you dearly. Well-born, welleducated; those are the lads that pay in full. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. "I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago.
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