A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. If he was asleep, then she much regretted that she must wake him up. “Always has been,” said Ogilvy. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. Stonily he had disengaged himself. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair.
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