” Mr. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. “The man alone could supply any, and if he recovers sufficiently to say anything, what he would say would exonerate you. I have said good-bye to it all.
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