’ ‘So you think she is an émigré?’ Lucilla put in before the incensed Roding could respond. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. Old pupil. . “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. Lucy saw that perhaps she had been attracted to Martin all along. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. “How did you find me?” She asked. Perhaps she was.
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