It was a haunted place. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. " "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. But never mind that. Wild," said Trenchard, "I shall proceed no further in this business. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song.
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