’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing,’ snapped Roding, with an odd look at his bride to be that Gerald could not interpret. It was not for a week or a month. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. . ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. My proposition is for you to keep an eye on him, and the moment he puts on his clothes to send me a telegram, care of the HongKong Hotel. You really ought not to stay here and talk to us. " "Won't one from me do as well?" interposed Mrs. ” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex.
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