IVTHE JOKER Mrs. Gollie came into Luke’s office as if she was hastening to the scene of some terrible personal disaster, or perhaps merely going on the stage. There was drama in every curve of her splendid young body, in the swinging sleeves of her camel-hair coat clutched tightly round her shoulders, in the turn of her beautiful neck. She was hatless and her well-dyed black hair sat neatly round her head in stiff waves which might have been fresh from the drier, but her fine eyes were ingenuous and her mouth, for all its bright paint, was kindly and innocent.
“I had to come down myself, Mr. Luke,” she began without preamble. “I saw him, you see, and I mean to say you want to know, don’t you?” She had a gentle voice and that kind of London accent which is like the waters of the Thames at
