“Lady Ferringhall, sir. Of course there were goats. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. “I do want you. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. In the upper hall he paused to listen.
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