A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Which was not to say that ladies were not interested in him. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house.
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