CHAPTER I. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively. She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. The Bitchster strikes again. Both girls looked pale and listless. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country.
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