At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. First, I went to Country Tom's, the Goat, in Long Lane. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner.
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