ABSTRACT
THE spin of eighty-five miles in her motor car on a crisp December day, with a suspicion of frost in the dry air, restored to Karyl a sense of youth and joy in life she had ceased to feel for several months. There was a childish ring in her voice and sparkle in her eyes when she dismounted at Marblehall that made her more dangerously attractive than ever, and the extraordinary vitality in her whole organism gave Lord Mancaster the sensation of an electric thrill as he shook hands with her in the hall. She was, for the moment, just a girl, a merry, laughing, beautiful girl, out upon a holiday revel; every trace of her ambitious career, her tremendous projects, had vanished.
