" Ah Cum nodded. It doesn’t mean that these men deserve to die for whatever they have done, John. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. “Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place.
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