you pop off to the club for the afternoon and leave me alone to hatch out a scheme. If I want you, I'll telephone; and, if you care to be a perfect darling, you'll fetch a couple of pounds of nutty chocolates home with you. I'm right out of goodies."
After Dunkle had gone Chloë betook herself to her boudoir, where she loosened her stays, lit her hookah, and stretched herself at her ease among the yielding cushions of her Westmorland.
"The problem," she reflected, "can be simply stated. How, within the next twenty-four hours, is the Venerable to be dissuaded from carrying out his programme? Since my threat of handing him over to justice doesn't seem to be going to work—for I don't fancy he was bluffing when he defied me to do my worst—it's pretty
