“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. ’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. It might be upset. I see. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek.
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