I will come to you here or wherever you say on the day after to-morrow." Armitage spoke with a deliberate sharp decision that was not the tone of a rogue or a fugitive.

As he spoke he advanced until he faced Claiborne in the center of the room.

Shirley still stood by the window, holding the soiled paper in her hand.

She had witnessed the change of men at the end of the room; it had touched her humor; it had been a joke on her brother; but she felt that the night had brought a crisis: she could not continue to shield a man of whom she knew nothing save that he was the object of a curious enmity.

Her idle prayer that her own land's commonplace sordidness might be obscured by the glamour of Old World romance came back to her; she had been in touch with an adventure that was certainly proving fruitful of diversion.