One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him. CHAPTER XIX. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. One night she apparently fell asleep. It is Thérèse. All your faults are just jolly modelling to make you real and solid. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. “Politics!” Ennison answered grimly. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed.
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