She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. Very doubtful. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Lucy was silent. “So am I. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. ‘Well, we’ll just go on up and have a look at this here passage, missie, shall we?’ ‘Have I not been saying so?’ snapped Melusine, exasperated. “What was that?” she asked sharply. “I hope you’re satisfied. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. She backed away from him. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage.
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