There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. " "Come along!" cried Jack, darting through the door. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. See paragraph 1. It was cheating, pitiful cheating.
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