“Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. “I’ll ruin your suit. Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?” She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s back. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand.
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