She looked around the apartment for other people. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. I came to London to look for you, and somehow the figure I saw in my dreams had got mixed up with you. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady.
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