He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. "However, I'll refresh your memory. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. I’m sorry Lucy. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again.
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