" And running on in this way, he carefully concealed the tools. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Yet through these talks, these meetings and conferences, these movements and efforts, Ann Veronica, for all that she went with her friend, and at times applauded with her enthusiastically, yet went nevertheless with eyes that grew more and more puzzled, and fine eyebrows more and more disposed to knit. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. . ’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him.
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