’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. You will never be happy with this hanging over you. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. ” Then he went on to say: “Well, you’ve had your little adventure, and I hope now you’ve had enough of it. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there.
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