It made no difference of any kind to him.
Drake finally got the better of the bargain, and the paper was brought up to the room.

Clarice saw Drake open it hurriedly, and his face cloud and harden as he glanced down the column.
'What's the matter ?' she asked in a rising voice.
'A rebellion in Matanga,' he said slowly.

'I thought that danger was averted,' and there was a distinct note of self-reproach in his tone.
Clarice felt her heart beat quicker.

She rose from her chair.

'What does that mean to you ?' she asked.
'Delay,' he replied, with the self-reproach yet more accentuated.
'Nothing more, I am sure; but it does mean that.' 'Nothing more ?' He noticed an expression of disappointment upon the girl's face, and, mistaking it, repeated, 'Nothing more than that, Clarice.' He took a step towards her.