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He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. "You're wanted. After much clapping, they started. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. So confident, Emile? ‘You fire the gun and you make one big noise. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt.
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