She opened the sitting-room door and pushed him in . Lucy Ellen rose in amazement . Over Cromwell 's bald head loomed Cecily 's dark face , tragic and determined . `` Here 's your beau , Lucy Ellen , '' she said , `` and I give you back your promise . '' She shut the door upon the sudden illumination of Lucy Ellen 's face and went up-stairs with the tears rolling down her cheeks . `` It 's my turn to wish I was dead , '' she muttered . Then she laughed hysterically . `` That goose of a Cromwell ! How queer he did look standing there , frightened to death of Lucy Ellen . Poor little Lucy Ellen ! Well , I hope he 'll be good to her . '' The Pursuit of the Ideal Freda 's snuggery was aglow with the rose-red splendour of an open fire which was triumphantly warding off the stealthy approaches of the dull grey autumn twilight . Roger St. Clair stretched himself out luxuriously in an easy-chair with a sigh of pleasure . `` Freda , your armchairs are the most comfy in the world . How do you get them to fit into a fellow 's kinks so splendidly ? '' Freda smiled at him out of big , owlish eyes that were the same tint as the coppery grey sea upon which the north window of the snuggery looked . `` Any armchair will fit a lazy fellow 's kinks , '' she said . `` I 'm not lazy , '' protested Roger . `` That you should say so , Freda , when I have wheeled all the way out of town this dismal afternoon over the worst bicycle road in three kingdoms to see you , bonnie maid ! '' `` I like lazy people , '' said Freda softly , tilting her spoon on a cup of chocolate with a slender brown hand .
Roger smiled XXXXX her chummily .
Over at in of on snuggery to twilight upon with