It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye. ‘I told you I could handle her. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me.
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