Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. As this gentleman was going away, he said to Jack in a jesting manner, 'that he should be glad to see him to-night at supper. ‘And nor do I. The visitors, when they entered, looked thoroughly intimidated and Everett concealed a grim smile.
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