“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. ” That conversation ended and he turned to her again. 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. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. Then he rallied, smiling a little. All houses of means had not only a maid but usually a whole staff of servants. E. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened.
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