Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier
quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding
cynically. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. He was now almost
driven to despair. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of
satisfaction was not easily restored. Michelle said that
161
she had researched the case, even went to the library in
the town where it happened and looked it up in the local
paper there. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. “You’ve interested me enormously. I
shall be delighted to rescue you. The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had
left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in
the practices of microscopic petrography. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. A brisk talk sprang
up between Capes and Mr. "When you are stronger we'll go up to the cutwater and watch them from there.
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