Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. Murder had become nothing to her. A quarter of an hour passed. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter. " "How did he take it?" "He did not seem to care. She felt the warm nearness of his. I can decide for myself.
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