Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. ” “If you tempt me too much,” she said, after a silence, “I shall do it. He could not make good his hold. ’ ‘Charvill, then,’ Gerald concluded, unperturbed. ‘En tout cas, I have waiting for me a cavalier. Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it. You are a detective?" "Yes.
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