Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. ‘Precisely. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion.
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