‘Do not move, messieurs, or I shall be compelled to blow off your head. "I'm not going to get rid of you just yet. . ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. Will I meet you there?’ ‘Yes, yes, I shall await you. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees.
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