‘Go then. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. I have had no one but for you. You’ve got to take what you can get. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau.
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