‘Ah, trying to be the young hero, I take it, which is why he near got hisself killed. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock.
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