“Look at me. I put your clothes out an hour ago. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. ” He left at once, immensely relieved, yet scarcely satisfied with himself as regarded his share of the interview with this young woman. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest.
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