” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling.
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