This is simply a chapter of coincidences. " A detective. . This is no place for me. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. " "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. "Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning, "the sooner the better. Besides, it is all reversed now, you know. Phillips Oppenheim AUTHOR OF “THE SECRET”, “THE TRAITORS”, ETC. . She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation.
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