’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. “Will you tell Sydney that I will see him in the morning,” he said. The day is already half over. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. If there was a Yankee bar-keep in HongKong, James Boyle would soon locate him. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. ’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. “I do not blame him.
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