’ Jack blinked at her. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. Meanwhile, after a consultation between Mr. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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