“Like a stab. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Did you see Lord Delafield and Miss Anderson? They packed me in with Colonel Anson and Mrs. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs.
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