CHAPTER XLV

BY AUTHORITY As Florian sat there, scribbling off a few lines of apology for their hasty departure, the door opened of a sudden—and Will Deverill entered. Florian rose, a little abashed—though, to be sure, it took a good deal to abash Florian. He stood by the desk, hesitating, with his unfinished letter dangling idly in his hand, while he debated inwardly what plausible lie he could invent on the spur of the moment and palm off to excuse himself. But before he could make up his mind to a suitable story, Linnet—that…