"What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. Spurlock looked up. He classified her as he seated himself. When younger, and in better health, she must have been eminently lovely; and there were still the remains of great beauty about her. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. Ruth could not be told now. Because of the Dance. ‘Imbecile.
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