“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. That's well. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point.
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