I can never be grateful enough. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. Drummond nodded. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. But some people have no consideration. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse.
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