" The Wastrel rushed. Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. She had a nut-brown skin, a swarthy upper lip, a merry black eye, a prominent bust, and a tun-like circumference of waist. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. If she spoke to a policeman she did not know what would ensue. Just let him down easy, Lucy. He whispered in her ear. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. "I will administer it. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. ‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill.
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