His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. Like appendicitis. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly.
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