Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. Wood, at Dollis Hill —" "Let me have one," said a carpenter, who was passing by at the moment,—"Mr. Good night. He began to tell me something—and stopped.
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