But I will never—never return. After you went he got up and took refuge in the preparation-room. Such pretty manners, she thought. I took the usual way home. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ” Lucy’s nagging worry raised its own status to full blown alarm. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in. "Oh gracious! he's lost. Mr. Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure.
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