” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. “I am off to-night,” he said. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. But they cut it all off. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away. He was asleep. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ‘You’re only making things worse, you little idiot.
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