And then suddenly—a relief. “Politics!” Ennison answered grimly. " "And, so Jack Sheppard has sent back Shotbolt in this pickle," said Langley. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face.
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