From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. ’ ‘That’s just it,’ said Joan Ibstock shamefacedly. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife.
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