You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?” It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once discard it. A minute pressure inwards showed him that it was not locked. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. So Mrs. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe.
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