It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. But I never found any truth in the saying. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. Mr. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face.
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