“Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. CHAPTER XXVI. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes.
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