"I have something further to tell you," pursued Winifred. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.
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