CHAPTER XV. Don’t imagine that. Laughed at me, then. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. But this is the first time I ever sailed on any one of the three. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. The attempt was unsuccessful.
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