. “Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. She drew it out with shaking fingers. “Look, dear,” she said presently, “you can put the ten on the Jack. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. “For instance?” She smiled. The rest of his attire was nondescript. She could not run, her limbs were frozen. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. She—She can snub him. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill.
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