Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot. One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him. Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. “I have to go out. "Will that do?" he added, returning it. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house.
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