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" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. That old world that had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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