CHAPTER XXVII

DOROTHY DRUMMOND PREFERS SECRECY DOROTHY looked more worn and anxious than on that morning when I had walked with her in Westbourne Grove. But the air of mystery enveloped her still, and to even the casual observer her face was interesting as that of a woman with some tragic history. “Miss Drummond,” I said, “it is a real pleasure to me that we meet again.” She started at the mention of her name, but made no comment, except to say, in her sweet, well-modulated voice:— “The pleasure is mutual, I assure you, Dr. Pick…