He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes.
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