Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. "And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. Man or woman. CHAPTER VIII. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. Her scream shook the windows of the sedan. " "I wish I could return the compliment, Terry.
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