‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. The last few months had not dealt kindly with Mr. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key.
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