“Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh trouble has come to you. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. Ownership seemed only a reasonable return for the cares and expenses of a daughter’s upbringing. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. " "So far you are correct," observed Trenchard; "still, this is no secret. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. “Where am I?” he muttered.
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