I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. . What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him.
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