“Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. He drew a little breath of relief. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. Ask your own conscience. The Oriental has no equivalent. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. uk Cover Art by David Evans Bailey www.
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