Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. ‘Keep watch, Jack! If Captain Roding fails to keep the man out of the house, run upstairs and warn me quickly. Rousing himself, he went to the door. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. He hadn't played fair.
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