” They returned to the Beck house and he walked her to the front door. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. ’ ‘Eh bien. Madame shrugged. Here they would be having lunch. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back.
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