The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. It was wonderful. Ever since the discovery of his relationship to the Trenchard family, a marked change had taken place in Jack's demeanour and looks, which were so much refined and improved that he could scarcely be recognised as the same person. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. “It’s settled. ” “Pick you up at 4:00? My parents would like to invite you to my house for dinner.
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