Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. ’ ‘Is she now? And what would you be wanting of her, may I ask?’ ‘Because she knows something that may make this fool understand that I am the mistress of—’ She broke off. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. “Here goes,” he said. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. It tore her apart. The Vorsack house bore the stamp of Diane in every visible spot.
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