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He heard the door close; and in a little while he fell into a doze; and there came a dream filled with broken pictures, each one of which the girl dominated. Kneebone was attired in the extremity of the mode. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. Why hadn't he admitted that he recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly to assume his Oriental mask? "Why?" asked O'Higgins. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. She wanted to be alone.
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