He walked in her direction. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. You are welcome to proclaim yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. ‘I knew you would be furious. Just as he reached them, the Comte de St Erme drew Valade a little apart and began to converse with him in rapid French. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. She wanted to turn him. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. If he escapes at all, it must be before our faces. He began shoveling dirt over the bodies.
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