" "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. The Times slipped from his fingers. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly. I must finish it at home. ’ ‘But you are not a surgeon,’ protested Melusine. ’ Lucilla eyed him with one of those particularly feminine looks it was difficult for a mere male to interpret.
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