When he was concentrating, deep shadows formed under his gray eyes. ’ For a moment he looked daunted. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support.
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