She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. It was locked. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. " "I always detested Mrs. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. CHAPTER II. Oh, I know.
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