Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. The tension was palpable. He must have been following her from room to room, silent in his stockinged feet. He had not considered this aspect of the business. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. I hope that she is okay. ” “He certainly did not follow you out,” Brendon answered. He called a waiter. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room.
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