"A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. His manner was deferential, even eager. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. ” For some seconds he had remained quite still. But come, sir. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis.
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