‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. While you talked I was only making our plans. . A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject. He couldn't have taken Mr. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. "He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard.
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