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 threw herself into it, directing the maid to order some tea from the steward. The whole day had been a failure from start to finish, and it was now five o’clock and almost over. Ever since her ridiculous break with the Captain—a break due to her foolish readiness to believe that Micky had deceived her—she had felt utterly out of patience with herself.

Not that she was particularly to blame. How was she to know there and been an embezzlement at the Bank of Edinburgh, In addition to the Roakby affair, one following close on the heels of the other, and that Scotland yard had sent out descriptions of both fugitives And poor little Micky! What an injustice she had done him! The boy was a trump— as she had always thought! He had mentioned nothing to her about the Bank of Edinburgh. But why should he? He probably did n’t know that her husband was connected with it, and it was the most natural thing in the world for her to have assumed that if the Captain was looking for anybody he must be looking for Cosmo. But her ridiculous lie! And her bungled, half-hearted and altogether unconvincing excuse to Ponsonby that she was