CHAPTER XVIII. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. ” “That’s the comfort of you. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. ’ He sat looking her over in silence for a moment or two, his thoughts revolving around the name and the way it fitted so exquisitely on quite another set of features. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. “It’s odd—I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is wrong,” he said.
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