“I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. New customs have prevailed over the old. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. This was enough for the poor widow. Happy Birthday, then.
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