Then Manning flopped back in his chair and dropped his chin like a man shot. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. She found a little difficulty in beginning. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor.
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