A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. " "We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. ” “By all means,” Brendon answered. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed.
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