On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. But what a monster was this Emile. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. Wood, I desire you'll put on your best things, and join us as soon as possible. . “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. Joan told me it was hung somewhere in the house, only I couldn’t remember where after all this time.
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