His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. . CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. "I shall be back presently," replied Thames, evasively. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. ” Lucy gestured to the Treehouse, which had been roofed and framed.
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