“Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. Sheppard. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. She repeated this breathlessly. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. ‘If Major Alderley should happen to call, you may admit him also. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks.
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