Seated side by side. . . two miserable partners in the fiasco

Windomshire

"Hush, Joe, I LOVE it," she cried




CHAPTER I

THE FARAWAY CLUB


A cold, thick drizzle, blown by a biting wind that sent chills to the
marrow, marred the early spring night, and kept indoors the few hardy
members who had haunted the clubhouse since the season's opening a
week before. Not more than a dozen loyal devotees to the sports of the
open air lounged about the big clubhouse. Three or four rangy young
women in sweaters and jackets strove bravely to dispel the gloom of
the night as it settled down upon the growling masculine majority. The
club steward hovered near, anxiously directing the movements of a
silent and as yet undrilled corps of servants who flitted from group
to group with decanters and checks, taking and mistaking orders with
the usual abandon. A huge fireplace threw out heat sufficient to make
the big lounging room comfortable. Now and then a spiteful gust of
wind swept the rain against the western window-panes with a menace
that set the teeth on edge.