United States or Greenland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The police did not acquaint Sir Charles, Lord Ronsdale or any one with their purpose, thinking not to alarm us needlessly beforehand. And I believe that is all." A moment the woman waited. "I shall I " The girl looked before her; tiny flames from the grate heightened the sheen on her gown; they threw passing lights on the somewhat tired, proud face. "I shall not need you, Dobson," she said.
"Isn't that Lord Ronsdale?" asked the girl, continuing to gaze before her. A black look replaced the sudden flame in Steele's gaze; the hand holding the reins closed on them tightly. "Rather early for him, I fancy," she said, regarding the slim figure of the approaching rider. "With his devotion to clubs and late hours, you know! Do you, Mr. Steele, happen to belong to any of his clubs?" "No."
The effect was instantaneous, magical; Lord Ronsdale sprang to his feet; John Steele looked at him, at the wavering face, the uncertain eyes. No doubt existed now in his mind; Gillett had not secured the paper, or he would have given it to his patron when they were alone. That fact was patent; the document was gone, irretrievably; there could be no hope of recovering it.
"Not interrupting a bit of gossip, I trust?" a cynical voice inquired; at the same time a third person, who had quietly approached, paused to regard them. "Ah, Lord Ronsdale!" Just for an instant the lady was disconcerted. "Gossip?" She repeated in a tone that meant: "How can you?" He waved his hand; leaned against the table. "Beg your pardon!
Lord Ronsdale found that her greeting left nothing to be desired; she who had been somewhat unmindful of him lately on a sudden seemed really glad to see him. His slightly tired, aristocratic face lightened; the sunshine of Jocelyn Wray's eyes, the tonic of youth radiating from her, were sufficient to alleviate, if not dispel, ennui or lassitude.
"Place those two bits of paper there on the edge of the desk!" Lord Ronsdale hesitated; his thin jaws were set so that the bones of the cheek showed; his eyes gleamed. When he did move it was as if blindly, precipitately, to carry out his first impulse. "I wouldn't!" What John Steele held vaguely included, in the radius of its possibilities, Mr. Gillett. "Unless " "You wouldn't dare!"
My horse apparently does not appreciate Scotch airs." "Ugly brute!" Lord Ronsdale, a dissatisfied expression on his handsome countenance, approached. "A little of the whip " the words were arrested; the nobleman stared at John Steele, or rather at the bare arm which the torn sleeve revealed well above the elbow.
John Steele started; but neither of the others noticed. "He found it at the last place we were; evidently it had been dropped by the fellow who was there and who fled at our coming." As he spoke, he stepped nearer the desk, in his hand a paper. "What is it?" Lord Ronsdale demanded testily. Mr.
An instant's carelessness nearly cost him the match. "Ten to five!" one of the men near her called out jovially. "Odds on Ronsdale! Any takers?" "Done!" She saw John Steele draw himself back sharply just in time; she also fancied a new, ominous gleam in his eyes. His demeanor underwent an abrupt change.
Lord Ronsdale considered; when he spoke, his voice was low, but it did not caress the ear. "You know John Steele, of course?" The ferret eyes snapped. "That I do, your Lordship. What of him?" quickly. The caller made no reply but tapped the floor lightly with his cane, and "What of him?" repeated Mr. Gillett. Lord Ronsdale's glance turned; it had a strange brightness.