"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. She repeated phrases of Mrs. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side.
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