The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly. . Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. Your maid has twenty minutes to pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to change into a travelling dress. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. CHAPTER XX.
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