First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. . Kneebone?" "He'd better not," muttered Blueskin. ” He shook his head. Burn your palette and your easel. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. She turned off the light and approached the window.
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