"Done!" cried Shotbolt. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt. ” “Are you a detective or a doctor?” she asked calmly. " "I am sorry. I’m sorry I ruined dinner.
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