Either Sydney or Mr. She glanced at him. In concealing himself behind the timber, Mr. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. The major might not indulge in this sort of flirtation in the ordinary way, but he had seen enough among his army colleagues to know just how to go about it. Spurlock bent his head to his knees. Montressor’s guests. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him.
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