“But for you Dad would never have let me marry Lescelles. What was to hinder me, if I had been so inclined, from directing them to your retreat?" "Enough," replied Darrell. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. To be no longer with Martha was strange. He got off on it. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers.
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