Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined. Lucy finished Michelle off, leaving only a dry, unrecognizable husk. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. “How fortunate I am, Miss Pellissier! All day I have been hoping that I might run across you.
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