“When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. He did his best not to grin. This child was frequently disconcerting. I’ll have it out with him. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. “Not only that,” he answered. ” The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled. Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle.
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