From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. ‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. You’re a lady all right and tight, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you.
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