Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. Be honest, and you will be happy. Yes. " "Respecting Thames Darrell?" observed Jack. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes.
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