CHAPTER 13WHICH was in a sense unjust to Dan McGrath. If he was not worried, he was at least slightly concerned about the rumpled state of his lower as well as upper garments. Twenty minutes strolling in the midnight rain dripping from the trees in Godolphin Square had not done much for either one, and his packing technique had done nothing to improve the decent blues he was wearing now. Laundry and pressing seemed to be a problem Miss Myrtle Grimstead left solely to the personal discretion of her tenants. On the other hand, Elliot Winship was hardly likely to be critical, Dan thought, remembering the rather weary-looking oatmeal tweeds he had had on himself there in the hall the day before. And if he had to go to lunch in a blanket he would not have hesitated long. Elliot Winship he had g
