“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
photographs of Cosmo led off between detectives with shackles on his wrists? She couldn’t stand it! Maybe Micky could devise some way of hiding him on the ship. She d heard of such things.—Micky! Always Micky!
“Voila,” said Fantine softly. “Here is the necklace, Madame.”
Lily took the package done up daintily in tissue paper and tied with a piece of pink ribbon, and placed it in her lap. She had not worn it since the evening before she had received Trevelyan’s marconigram. Her husband had not sent her another radio and she had not replied to his, but either was hardly to be expected. Their relations did not call for much; theirs was an offensive and defensive alliance simply,—to Lily rather more offensive than anything else.
“Oh, I might as well take a chance!” she muttered. “If Micky won’t do it for me perhaps I can cook up some other way of getting it in!”
She sighed, feeling unconsciously the fall of the barometer. What a muddle she ’d made of life! Here she was getting to middle age,195
