A May-time languor had crept into the heart of April, and all the windows were open.

The blurred murmurs of insects stole into the house.

Oscar, half-forgotten by his captor, heard a sound in the window behind him and a hand touched him through the curtain.
Claiborne crumpled the paper impatiently.
"Shirley, you are against me! I believe you have seen Armitage here, and I want you to tell me what you know of him.

It is not like you to shield a scamp of an adventurer--an unknown, questionable character.

He has followed you to this valley and will involve you in his affairs without the slightest compunction, if he can.