The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. White assented. He threw her on the bed. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. " "Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease.
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