O'Higgins is rather a kindly man. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. He smiled. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. 1 through 1. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board.
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