See paragraph 1. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time.
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