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Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. CHAPTER IV. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. " "Be pacified, sweet soul," said Wood, looking meaningly at Thames; "you shall go, and I will accompany you.
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