She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. ’ The lady’s gaze dwelled thoughtfully on the half-drawn sword and then came up to meet his, an odd look in her eyes. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood.
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