Wood. Always as black and bitter as gall. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. Anna said nothing. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. On the other hand the two young men who sat on either side of Anna were already throwing murderous glances at the newcomer. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me.
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