CHAPTER I. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. Lucy turned and faced the strawberry blonde behind her, gesturing rapidly with a folded origami triangle, evidently the newest form of note. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. “You will have to eat soon,” he said cryptically. “If any one should know——you should! He was your friend. Had you died, I should have fully obeyed the instructions on that envelope. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. I can’t stand it. She looked up quickly. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm.
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